


Wanting To Be Better

by MZ_Supermanfan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BAMF Jessica Jones, Boxing & Fisticuffs, Gen, Nick Fury Knows All, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Sokovia Accords, Spy Natasha Romanov, Supportive May Parker (Spider-Man), Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-18
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 54,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22300294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MZ_Supermanfan/pseuds/MZ_Supermanfan
Summary: Everything is changing. There's training days, the avengers are coming back, and now they've opened registration for heroes. He runs head first into blind boxers and SHIELD secrets. Peter's not sure where he fits into it all, but he knows the ride will be a wild one.-----------------------------"But one day, if the world’s in trouble, someone is going to call the people in that database. The Avengers may not be enough. I mean, we’re broken, Kid.”“They’ll come, Mr. Stark.”“Peter-”“No. They will. They won’t let us fight alone.”-----------------------------“You want to pay me to train some kid to box?” He sounded like the idea was an incredulous one, tone still huffy and mouth turned down in a frown.“That’s it.” Tony moved around the desk and sat on the edge of it, positioned in front of Murdock. He slipped a flash drive into the blind man’s hand.  “Oh and if you want to review the Accords Amendment concerning registration then that’ll be a plus.”-----------------------------“Jessica Jones.” She shoved a hand out, which Peter took instinctively.Then she tightened her grip and Peter realized he’d made a mistake.
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 103
Kudos: 291





	1. Chapter 1

The squirming baby was surprisingly silent as it rested against Nick Fury’s chest. His small arms pushed against the binding of the blue blanket that swaddled him, but it didn’t seem to distress the babe. Instead the boy appeared comforted by the tight enclosure, a quiet yawn escaping before he went still once more.

Hill had told him that the baby had been easy to transport, that he had slept through most of the drive and was hardly ever fussy when awake. “He’ll have good temperament when he’s older,” She had said as she handed the baby over. Fury hoped that was true. It would certainly balance out the impulsive side he was sure to inherit from his father.

The quiet dragged on for a few more minutes as they stood in the hallway, until it was finally broken by the sound of footsteps. Fury glanced away from the face of the sleeping boy, watched as a nurse approached them.

“They’re ready.”

They weren’t truly ready, but who could ever prepare for such grief. Fury nodded to the nurse as she opened the door to a hospital room. It wasn’t sterile in decoration like most, with walls painted in soft pastel colors and lights that were slightly dimmed. Inside was another man, seated next to a bed that held his wife.

“Richard. Mary. I’m sorry for your loss.” Mary’s gaze was gentle, but he could tell she was drawing every ounce of strength to keep it that way as her eyes drifted to the bundle in his arms. As if on cue, the boy began his squirming.

Richard stood from his seat and advanced towards Fury. Despite the fact that his sole purpose had been to make sure this went through, he could feel a sense of protectiveness form at the thought of releasing the boy. But he released him anyway and watched as Richard cooed and took the bundle to where Mary rested.

She took him with the ease of a mother, her strength shifting into a gentleness that was immediate and visible. Fury watched as she touched the boy’s face with her fingers, a soft drifting that encouraged the baby’s eyes to open. Blue, though likely to change into brown at some point. “He’s beautiful,” Mary whispered, then added, “Peter.”

“Your father’s name?” Richard murmured. “Yeah. He looks like him. Bald and wrinkled.”

“You’re terrible,” she whispered back, though the words had no sting in them.

When it was clear that Mary was settled with the newly named Peter, Richard waved for Fury to follow him into the hall. His eyes darted between Fury and the door of the hospital room, empty hands clenching and unclenching in a display of anxiousness. Fury couldn’t blame the man for being on edge. The loss of one child. Another one showing up at their door. Days of secret phone calls and a favor requested from Fury himself.

“Is SHIELD going to maintain a record of the swap?” Richard’s attention was all on him now, unsteady hands tucked into pockets.

“No,” Fury had made sure of it. “Papers all point to you and Mary being that kid’s parents.”

There was a heavy silence between the two, broken when Richard gave a shaky sigh. “I’m surprised it’s you, Fury. Didn’t really expect the Director himself to get this involved.”

Fury gave a loose wave of his hand, “When you want something done right...”

Richard’s brow lifted as he pried further, “You going to tell me who else knows?”

“As few as possible. The mom didn’t make it. Father didn’t know.” Fury glanced at his watch, an act that didn’t go unnoticed by Richard. Question time was over. He supposed it didn’t matter anyway. All the answers they needed were in that room with Mary now.

So, Richard did what was expected of him and shook Nick Fury’s hand as he promised, “We’ll take care of Peter.”

“I know you will. I wouldn’t have called if there was any doubt.” Then Fury was walking away, leaving the fate of a dead agent’s boy in the qualified hands of a Company man.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” Peter sputtered out as he leaned back against a brick wall in the alley,eyes drifting down to look at the rebar currently sticking out from the front of his right thigh. Rebar… a spider’s natural enemy. One that is abundant and plenty in Queens.

 _“You have sustained a penetrating injury in your thigh, but it has missed your vital arteries. Peter, would you like me to contact emergency services?”_ For an AI, Karen sounded a little worried.

“No! No, Karen. I’m fine. It’s fine. There’s not that much blood.” Much was probably up to interpretation. He could see the liquid oozing through the knitting of the suit and also felt it trickling down his leg. Bracing himself, he reached for the rebar.

Karen’s reprimanding voice stopped him before he could grab it, _“I do not recommend removing the object at this time or else there will be more blood. Please remain where you are while I initiate the ‘Spider-kid First Aid’ protocol.”_

“What’s that? Karen?” Peter tried, and failed, to keep his voice from rising, “What are you doing?! Are you calling someone? Hang up! Don’t do-”

 _“Hey Underoos.”_ Tony Stark’s voice echoed through his mask. He sounded calm, which Peter took to mean that Karen had not already relayed the situation. The completely fine and under control situation. _“I can hear you breathing, Kid, so you might want to say something before this gets weird.”_ Too late. Already a bit weird. It was like having the principal call your parents…

“Everything is fine Mr. Stark! Pocket dialed. All good here. Yep.” In a whisper, he added, “Hang up, now, Karen, please.”

_“I am unable to end the call until the First Aid protocol has completed.”_

Typing. Peter could hear Tony typing away, probably in his workshop. Probably toobusy to deal with this. _“What’s going on?”_ A beat of silence passed. “ _You know what, never mind. FRIDAY, connect with Karen and give me the rundown.”_

“No, Mr. Stark! I’m fine. I just… landed on something pointy.” And rusty.“Just a scratch, really. Must have messed up Karen or something. You know, glitchy AI’s and all that.” Peter slapped a hand to his forehead. Great… insulting Tony’s AI. The other end of the line was surprisingly quiet now, no more typing or background noise. Peter lasted all of four seconds before he chimed in again, “How are you?”

 _“Kid,”_ Tony sighed. Peter could almost picture the man rubbing his temples in frustration. _“I’m sending a suit. Based on readings from Karen you’ll make it to the compound but we got to get that pointy thing out.”_

“I can’t, Mr. Stark,” he hated how whiney his voice sounded, “I’ve got curfew. You know. Aunt May’s strict about curfew. And it’s really not that-”

_“You finish that thought and we’re going to have problems, Parker.”_

“-bad.” God. He wished he knew when to shut up.

_“First Aid protocol has completed. We can hang up now, Peter.”_

He accepted his fate then, let his body go lax against the wall as he asked, “I guess I’ll see you soon?”

 _“Soon enough. Hang in there, Kid. And don’t do anything else stupid.”_ There was a firm click and all his breath left him as the situation came clearer into focus.

Peter’s leg throbbed, a burning sensation settling around the entry and exit wound of the rebar. He could feel his body draining excess resources to try and kickstart the healing process. With the metal still inside him, it just left him exhausted and hungry.

Exhausted, hungry, in pain, and a little humiliated, Peter was close to tears. It was more the latter than anything though. Mr. Stark had been more than understanding and helpful when it came to Spiderman, but there was something that kept Peter in a box that had child written all over it. Getting reckless wouldn’t get him out of that box. Crying over a little metal impalement wouldn’t help either. Did Mr. Stark cry over the small stuff?

Within just a few minutes of ending the call, Peter could hear the thruster of an Iron Legion suit. It must have been one that Tony kept in the city, because there was no way it had come all the way from the upstate compound.

The journey to the compound was faster than Peter had expected. Driving, it was a good ninety minutes, but as the crow flies -or Iron Man suit- it was a quarter of the time.

Tony was on the landing pad when they arrived, along with a stretcher and some medical personnel. He was frowning as he glanced down at Peter, then grimacing as his gaze drifted to Peter’s thigh which was covered in a fair amount of blood now. “That is not a scratch. How’d this happen anyway?”

Story time. “Oh yeah, so there was this apartment building on fire. And since I’ve been running through Karen’s training program I knew I had fire retardant web bombs. So, I’m shooting left and right, pew pew pew, clearing some hallways, saving cats and kids and stuff. Last person’s out and I’m free and clear, bout to jump and swing back home, cause the curfew, ya know? Well, let me tell you that there’s a wall out there that’s ready for some fire, like covered, cause I forgot to switch back to a swing web. Fell a few stories, took out a fire escape, and landed on my friend here,” Peter waved pointedly towards the rebar. “Obviously people are not correctly disposing of construction material.

Tony stared, jaw popping a little as he clenched his teeth.

“I’m pretty sure I could have just taken it out, let it heal.” Peter tried to explain as he was maneuvered onto the stretcher. He did his best to hold in a whimper as the doctor situated his leg to not jostle the rebar, even though he ended up doing just that.

Tony shot him a sympathetic glare. “It’s all the way through, kid. Can’t just pull it like a splinter. They have to tie off blood vessels, work out any debris.”

“I mean, when I get shot it heals up fine.” Bad idea. Bad words. Peter swore silently at his lack of filter.

Tony maneuvered around doctors and nurses as they worked on IV’s, but his eyes never left Peter.“When you get shot- Kid, what did I say about being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman?”

“Well, Mr. Stark, sometimes bad guys in the neighborhood have guns!”

“Don’t get shot! Don’t fall on rebar! Stop doing things that make Karen call me!” There it was. Pissed off Tony. Disappointed Tony. The one that made Peter’s eyes well up with tears. But the older man’s face gentled after a moment as they continued their journey to the medical ward of the compound. “And for god’s sake take off the mask so I see that you’re getting this through that adolescent brain.”

Peter did, revealing a shamed red face and some minor bruising along with trembling lips and watery eyes.

Tony mistook the display for one of pain, his hand briefly squeezing Peter’s shoulder. “You hurting? Need me to get some of Roger’s meds? Can someone get Roger’s meds from the pharmacy?”

“We’ve already started a drip, so he shouldn’t be feeling much soon.” The doctor’s weren’t wrong. Whatever they had given him worked fast, because he was already feeling lightheaded, barely registering words spoken around him. Words like, _you’ll be okay kid_ and _go ahead and rest_. It was like laying on clouds, warm and fuzzy and drifting. So he followed the words instructions and let go.

When he finally woke, that fuzzy feeling was fading away, allowing his sharp senses the chance to take over. Not too far away someone was sleeping, a steady breathing that lulled for a moment before rising again in metronome. Further away he could hear footsteps and voices, one of them familiar and a little fear inducing.

May’s stern tone, “Tony swore that Peter was staying to the ground. He swore that there was nothing dangerous enough to put my nephew in the hospital.”

Miss Pott’s calmer one, “Mrs. Parker, I’m so sorry. Peter is fine. He’s adjusting well. Tony is doing everything in his power to make sure he doesn’t over exert himself. It’s just… the hero thing has a learning curve.”

Peter blinked away the sleep from his eyes, finally turning his head towards the sleeping person in his room. “Mr. Stark? Mr. Stark, there’s two angry women outside. Mr. Stark?” When he received no response he focused in on himself.

Slowly, he tested his right leg, tensing and flexing and giving it a soft squeeze. The muscle still felt really sore, but no longer had that awful burning feeling. Tossing back the blanket covering him, he rotated so he could place his feet on the floor and get a glimpse of the injury. There was a large red puckered scar about the size of a quarter on his thigh, visible just under the end of the hospital gown. He couldn’t see the exit wound, but assumed it looked the same.Yeah, it wasn’t too different from a bullet wound after all.

He turned his attention back to Tony, jumping off the bed only to find himself wrestling with a few diode cables attached to his chest and an IV attached to his arm. The resulting ruckus of loudly beeping monitors and falling IV stand was enough to startle Tony from his slumber.

“Ah, Kid, what are you doing?” The man rubbed at his eyes as he sat up further in the chair by the hospital bed. Tony blinked a few times, before taking in the scene before him. Peter in his gown, fiddling with the damn IV still.

“They’re coming, Mr. Stark.”

“Who?” Tony didn’t seem very concerned. Instead he focused on turning off the monitors after giving the results a quick read. He seemed satisfied that Peter no longer needed them. 

“Aunt May and Miss Potts.”

“Yeah. I called them.” Tony placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder to guide him back to the bed. “What were you planning on doing? Running out of here in a hospital gown? Swing your way back to Queens?” As he questioned the boy, Tony took a look at the wound on Peter’s thigh. His brow lifted in surprise. “You’re healing faster. It’s only been ten hours.”

“Ten hours?! Oh man, I missed school,” Peter groaned and dropped his head into his hands.

“Uh, I think a doctor’s note will excuse you.”

The door to the room opened, revealing the two speakers Peter had heard earlier. He managed to smile sheepishly at May, who looked both relieved and terrified with wide eyes and shaking hands. “I’m sorry, Aunt May.”

She was by his side in a heartbeat, her arms wrapping around him in a tight embrace. “Damn it, Peter. You scared the crap out of me.” She touched his face, mouth turning down in a frown as she wiped at what remained of tear tracks.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, unable to think of what else there was to say.

“Yeah. Sorry.And grounded.” May set herself back from the hug, but kept on hand on his shoulder. As if she was afraid he would go somewhere. Whatever she saw on his face must have been enough, because she gave it a hard squeeze in acceptance and stepped away to face Tony.

He had the sense to sound humble and gentle, unwilling to set off the bomb that could be pissed off Aunt May just yet, “The kid just needs some time to work out the suit.”

“Time? Tony, how much can his body take? He comes home with bruises, concussions, fractures and that is if he even makes it home in time for me to notice. Now he’s getting impaled! I get that this isn’t really my area of expertise, but something has got to give. And I won’t allow it to be him.” May huffed, a signal that whatever anger she had felt was fading into something even worse. Sadness. “You will not take my boy from me.”

Peter watched as a seriousness settled over Tony, something he rarely ever saw on the man. “I wasn’t planning on it. But you can’t change who he is. You won’t be able to stop that… that drive inside him. Trust me, I’ve tried. Took the suit, and that ended up with Peter fighting arms dealers on a crashing plane with no defense.”

“Oh, you’re right about that. There is no stopping him.” May kept a leveled stare on Tony, her next words firm, “That’s why you’re going to train him. You’re going to make sure Peter is ready for anything.”

“Train him? What do you think I created Karen for?”

“That voice in his suit is not enough!” Pissed off May has entered the game. “What do you do for training? What do the rest of the Avengers do?”

“We… wing it?” Peter wasn’t sure if that was a question or an answer.

“Tony.” Pepper now. Her tone was reprimanding, eyes narrowed as she glared at him. She seemed more hesitant about talking in front of Peter, but moved forward anyway with a small sigh. “May is right. You gave him the suit. Now you have a responsibility to make sure he’s armed in other ways.”

There was more arguing. Peter wished that they would step outside at some point, instead of leaving him awkwardly listening in on a conversation that revolved around him. Especially when his incessant need to say something popped up. May shouted at Mr. Stark a lot, using a few words that Peter hadn’t heard since he’d been found out as Spiderman. Miss Potts played a peacekeeper, as well as she could against two stubborn individuals.

In the end an agreement was made, tentatively and with several caveats. It was about that time that they finally left the room to iron out any details and specifics. The specifics were a mystery to Peter for about a week following the incident. Part of being grounded meant he couldn’t bring up Spiderman business until May gave him the go ahead.

He took his licks with the grace of a 16 year old, whining to Ned, his only outlet, as they walked home. “I just want to do something and they’re making it seem like I get hurt all the time and can’t take care of myself.”

Ned shrugged, waving a hand towards Peter’s leg. “I mean, you did get shot a few months ago, which was, like, super scary. And now this whole impalement thing.”

Peter couldn’t stop the huff that escaped him, “I heal overnight though. I’m pretty sure I could have just pulled it out and avoided the whole mess.” Ned wasn’t very sympathetic. He was more on Iron Man’s team, bringing up points about how Mr. Stark would be even more pissed off to find out later. Or how the responsible thing to do was to let them know when he got hurt rather than it be discovered.

Yep. Always the responsible guy in the chair.

“So are you, like, not wanting to do the training?”

“It’s not that. It’s just… I feel like he’s going to baby me. Like with the training wheels program.” Ned stayed quiet at that, recalling when he’d been pushed away from the Spiderman work once Karen came into play. Yeah, his guy in the chair was a little less so nowadays. “Sorry, Ned.”

His friend just gave another small shrug and smiled in acceptance. “No worries. You’ll feel better after the weekend."

They went through the ritual of their handshake, parting ways afterwards. Peter was still thinking of their conversation, of how Ned made good points about him needing to take more responsibility for his own care, when he spotted a fancy town car parked outside his apartment.

Picking up the pace, Peter raced up the stairs and barged into the apartment to see May and Happy seated on the couch.

“You ready?” May asked Peter.

“For what?”

“It’s training day,” Happy answered back.


	3. Chapter 3

There were no training wheels anymore, Peter quickly realized as he took in the city’s landscape and the flying drones that hovered above him in formation. Happy had told him the city was often called ‘The Sandbox’ by recruits who trained there. It was uninhabited, made up of about four dozen buildings, both industrial and residential. They were bare though, no decorations or cars. On the building closest to Peter, he could see bullet holes and paintball marks. A few of the windows were already broken.

Peter glanced down at the recording device in his hand, one that Happy had placed there just a moment before. Pressing play, he listened to the mission brief laid out by Mr. Stark, which was short and succinct.

 _“Retrieve the aircraft blackbox.”_ Nothing more followed.

“What? That’s it?” Peter shot a confused sideways glance toward Happy.

“Yeah, his plans tend to be direct. At least it’s better than “Attack” .” Happy was situated by the town car, tapping away at a laptop. As Peter looked over his shoulder he could see some program selections. Happy clicked on the one labeled ‘Day 1’. “So, since Tony can’t be here, he worked out a few training games for you.” Happy then pointed to the drones. “These guys are armed with non lethal impact rounds. They’re the Red Team. Tony says you’re not likely to need a doctor when this is over, but just in case we have a Legion on standby. ”

Peter held up the case holding the Spiderman suit. “So do I just suit up and go for it?” Happy didn’t answer, instead he closed up the laptop and loaded everything up in the car.

One of the drones behind Peter made a whirring noise, then announced, “Simulation begins in five seconds.”

“Uh, Happy?”

“Good luck, kid.” The driver’s side window closed, leaving Peter alone with an ominous countdown. Three. Two. One.

Something hit him in the back, strong enough to drive him forward to the ground. An impact round. God… Tony was wrong. Very wrong. A few more of those and he’d have cracked ribs for sure. Peter coughed as he inhaled dirt, trying to regain the breath he’d lost.

Move. A sensation in his mind, a shouting voice telling him to get to safety. A sixth sense that told him another round was coming his way. Peter flipped to his feet, one hand clasping the briefcase that held his suit, the other firing webs. One drone fell to the ground, immobilized by his netting. But it was one out of a hundred and he knew there wouldn’t be enough web fluid to allow him to take out all the drones.

So, Peter ran. He dodged round after round, felt his face flush from the exertion of trying to make it to the cover of buildings. The first one he came to was the same residential house with bullet holes and paint splatters. Spurred by the sound of more impact rounds hitting the ground near his feet, Peter dove through one of the broken windows.

Glass caught his upper arm. Peter ignored the sting. Minor wound, should be healed in a few hours. His senses were sharp, his own breathing sounding like a roar in his ears. But one thing he couldn’t hear was the firing of drones. They hadn’t followed him into the building and from his position tucked against the wall there was no line of sight.

Peter popped open the case and quickly slipped on his mask. The rest of the suit could wait while he allowed Karen to kick on.

_“Hello Peter. Are we ready for patrol today?”_

“Karen! Drones are trying to kill me.”

 _“Please hold. I am receiving an upload from FRIDAY.”_ A brief pause. _“Engaging Day 1 training mode. Functions are now limited.”_

“Limited?! What does that mean?”

_“Training mode will be disabled when the objective is complete.”_

“Are you serious right now?” Peter hissed into his mask. When it became clear that Karen wasn’t going to respond, Peter focused on his next task and started stripping off his clothes. Based on the first hit he’d taken, the suit should take the brunt of the impact rounds.

Slapping the center of his chest to tighten the suit, Peter could already feel his adrenaline spike. His shoulders rolled back, testing for any soreness. When he found none, he peeked out the window. That screaming in his head had him drawing back just as fast, narrowly avoiding the next impact round.

“So we still have drones out there. Good to know. Okay. Karen, can you scan for them?” Peter silently prayed that it wasn’t one of the reduced functions.

 _“There is two sentry drones ten feet away. They appear to be holding position.”_ So scans were still up.

“Hey Karen, can you pull up a picture of a blackbox? I need to know what I’m looking for.” The visual feed in his mask flickered to reveal an image in the corner. Funny enough, the object shown was actually red and not at all in the shape of a box. “Can you do a scan of the area and locate one?”

 _“Drone interference is only allowing partial scans.”_ Peter was beginning to realize how limited Karen really was. On patrol she’d offer solutions when he asked her questions, but now she was giving only exact replies. Her AI system was essentially stunted. For a moment, Peter felt like he’d lost a teammate.

This was the real test. Tony wanted him to find his own solution, to not rely on an AI to take care of him in the heat of battle. To use it as a tool and not a buddy.

“Alright. So we either need to take out all the drones, go building to building looking for the box, or sit here and see how good these guy’s battery power is.” A sigh escaped him, one that carried with it some of the anxiousness he was feeling. “Alright. Karen, how much web do I have for nets?”

 _“You have approximately 40 net shots left._ ”

Half of what he needed. Again, Karen normally would have made a recommendation right about now.

He needed a visual, one that Karen couldn’t give him. Tapping his chest lightly, he let loose one of his own drones. The spider shaped device flew in front of him and his own image was reflected back in the peripheral of his mask. Taking manual control, he guided his drone through the window.

Static took over the feed as an impact round turned the friendly drone into dust.

“They’re good shots aren’t they, Karen.”

_“Sentry drone accuracy is at 96 percent.”_

Peter recalled the hit he’d received at the beginning. He could take another, especially now that he had his suit. Bracing himself, he started back towards the window. That voice in his head was softer now, more guiding than commanding. A hiss of air blew past his ear, another narrow miss of impact rounds.

Instinct propelled him, had him leaping in the air so he could take hold of the drone. He knew he didn’t have enough web, but the sentry drones were no match for his strength. It was heavier than he’d expected, a solid force that fought against his weight dragging it down.

Using his momentum, Peter twisted his body and released the drone in a clumsy throw. It exploded against the other sentry, firing wild shots as they fell to the earth.

“Three down.” As soon as his feet touched the ground, Peter started running again, eyes locked on the next building. A fake strip mall looking building with lots of windows.

More drones must have picked up his location, because those windows shattered before his eyes, rounds meant for him meeting a different mark. The openings were large enough for a few drones to follow, forcing Peter to keep moving.

Moving him straight into a dead end. Cinderblocks made up the rear walls of the strip mall. Briefly, Peter wondered if he could punch through it, then thought better of risking a broken hand. Also, he hadn’t searched any buildings yet.

No… Peter had to face more of the drones to create and opening for Karen to scan.

Another series of impact rounds hit the wall, spurring him into motion once more. Three drones surrounded him. If he didn’t take at least two out then he’d be exhausted in a matter of minutes. His spider-sense could only take him so far before confusion set in.

Peter twisted his wrist, changing his web setting too sling. The drones were heavy, but no heavier than a car. Throwing one shouldn’t be too hard.

Though there was one thing he hadn’t considered.

Car’s don’t fly.

The web caught the nearest drone and hung tight. Just as Peter was about to pull, the drone moved first, jerking Peter off his feet and into the air. Without anything to brace himself against, Peter found himself a hanging target. The drone darted out the broken window and straight into the air, dragging him with it. Impact rounds flew from all directions.

Dizziness clouded his thoughts. Something struck him in the leg, a quick burst of pain that faded into nothing. Suddenly Peter realized that the drone had stopped gaining altitude. Glancing upwards he found himself staring into the barrel of it’s weapon. It fired, a stinging shot that grazed his cheek. Peter counted the seconds before another round hit his shoulder.

That one hurt more, no longer just a graze.

But what he learned was more than enough.

The rounds came in two second intervals. Long enough to where a third round never made it out of the barrel. Peter’s fist went through the center of the drone, wires and metal bursting right through the top. He was falling, gravity taking over now.

Luckily the drone had taken him closer to one of the taller buildings.

Firing a web and feeling it catch on the side of the building, Peter flew. As natural as breathing.

Four down. Seven. Ten. He had enough shots for half, which meant he had to learn the meaning of two birds and one stone. Reaching peak height, Peter released the web, feet aimed at his next target. Colliding with the drone, Peter took control of where it fired, twisting his body to direct the barrel in the direction of other drones.

The impact rounds were more effective against them than against him, doing just enough damage to take them out of the air without completely destroying them. Briefly, Peter wondered if Tony would give him props for the limited damage.

“Karen, can you scan for the blackbox now?”

_“I am detecting the device, though I am unable to narrow down the location to a single building.”_

A map of the city was displayed, four neighboring buildings highlighted. Peter leapt towards another drone, taking him closer to the target. A handful more ended up on the ground. The map in his view screen shifted, now showing only two buildings highlight.

One was a single family home, the other was an apartment complex style building. Peter aimed for the smaller building, shooting another web to allow him a quick path straight through the open front door. As soon as his feet hit the floor, Peter dropped to his knees, barely remembering to kick the door closed behind him.

Exhaustion hit. His first reprieve since starting the training. How long had he been at it now?

“Karen? What time is it?”

 _“It is 8:00 PM.”_ Twenty minutes!? Peter could have sworn it had been longer.

“Can we do another scan?”

 _“I am unable to scan the building.”_ He was close. Close enough to where Karen’s scans were disabled. Close enough to where the drones were gathering outside and firing against the windows and door.

Peter slowly rose from his position on the floor, eyes darting around the room. He was grateful for his sense of sight now, of how he could see better in the dark. The sun was setting outside and with no electricity currently on in the Sandbox the house was near pitch black.

He walked deeper into the darkness, searching room by room. So little of it had any furniture or cabinets that most of it only took a cursory glance. The last place left was the attic, accessible by a pull down ladder in the central hallway.

Complacency. That would be what killed him.

Peter knew it to be true when he ignored the tingling at the back of his head.As soon as he touched the rope to pull down that ladder, his senses exploded. Light strobed against his vision. Smoke filled his nostrils. His ears rang from the sound of a siren.

The attic was booby-trapped.

The resulting overload sent him into the fetal position. Peter cried out, hands pressed against his ears and knees tucked into his chest. His heart pounded beneath his ribs, so intense it hurt to breathe.

There was no getting it under control, there was no ignoring it. So he fought through it. Peter grit his teeth, so hard he was certain that they would shatter. One step at a time, he crawled his way into the attic.

Even with blurred vision he could see that bright red-orange device. It looked like salvation.

His hand touched it and the chaos around him ended. Just like that.

_“Peter! Do you require emergency services? Your vitals are approaching dangerous levels.”_

“No, Karen. No thank you. I’m fine.” And he was almost surprised to find he was fine. His ears were still ringing a little. His eyes and nose burned. But he was strong. Peter felt his energy return, felt the rise of pride and joy as he pulled the blackbox closer until it rested snugly against his chest.

_“The drones have rejoined in a standby formation. You have completed your Day 1 training event. All functions have been restored.”_

Peter crawled out of the attic, walked confidently out the door. Just as Karen had told him, the drones were hovering in the same place he had first seen them. It was under a mile to get back to the car, long enough for Peter to begin feeling every ache and twinge. He didn’t care though. When he reached Happy, he handed him the blackbox and smiled.

They didn’t say much on the ride home. Happy had handed him a tissue, suggested that Peter wipe up around his ears so Aunt May would be less freaked out. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about until Peter saw it came away with blood on the tissue. “Gross.”

“Yeah. The sonic sirens are a bitch.” Then Happy handed him another item. A white pill. “That’s what we call Ribu.”

“Rye-bue?”

“Yeah. Rogers’ level ibuprofen. Tony said you need to take one.”

Peter thought about arguing, but realized that wouldn’t earn him any points. So he swallowed the medicine. It kicked in about five minutes later, leaving Peter free of those previous aches and twinges. It also managed to leave him unconscious.

When he woke, Happy was guiding him out of the car. He had to help him up the stairs, was even nice enough to carry the Spiderman briefcase. There were some quick pleasantries exchanged between Happy and May. Peter managed to mumbled a goodbye before stumbling into the apartment.

Aunt May caught him, whispering against his hair. “You did good, Peter, real good.”

Peter just mumbled back, “Yeah. I’m Spiderman. It’s crazy.”

May tugged at his sleeve, but Peter failed to force his eyes open to look at what she was doing. “You have blood all over your shirt.”

“Mhmm.”

Something landed on his chest. Flexing his wrist on instinct Peter tried to send a web to his target. Luckily for Aunt May he no longer had his web shooters on. Blinking away the rest of the haze he looked down to see what had hit him. A small package, wrapped in brown paper, no bigger than a VCR.

He shot a quick glance to May, who answered, “From Tony Stark. Part of the deal.”

Peter ripped into the package and dumped the contents next to him. There were a handful of granola bars, some protein shakes, and a short letter.

_Eat your vegetables. - Stark_

“Tony says you need a boost after training days. Apparently they did a bunch of labs and this is what they came up with. Everything a growing spider-kid needs, or so he says.”

Everything tasted terrible, but Peter managed to choke down a bar and the shake. Aunt May waited at his bedroom door, sending him glances of impatience.

“You, uh, off work today?”

“Yep. We’ve got homework.” Peter groaned, not sure what homework entailed and feeling like his weekends were never going to be the same again. “Buck up, kiddo. We’re in it for the long haul.”

She left him alone so he could shower and change. And it was a much needed shower. Peter looked in the mirror, noting the already yellowed bruises all over his body. The impact rounds must have done some serious tissue damage for him to be still be recovering. There was dried blood covering his arm from when he’d been cut on glass. When he washed it away, Peter was pleased to see there was just a single pink line that remained. Again, deeper than he’d originally thought.

Meeting Aunt May in the living room she directed him to the couch. In front of it sat an unfamiliar laptop, already opened. Answering his unspoken question, May said, “Stark.”

“Uh, so what are we doing?”

“Review.” She tapped a few keys, bringing up an image of the Sandbox.

And review they did. Tony had allowed May to access the drone feed. No… he had _wanted_ her to access it. Part of the training specifics was that she watch it, that she desensitize herself to every threat Peter could face. She had balked at the thought, but with some convincing from Tony, _“All the avengers watched each other’s training. We had a team outside that does it too. It helps catch weak spots, helps hone them until they’re no longer there. You’re his outside team now.”_

The first round was the hardest, with no suit to take the impact. May just pursed her lips, but said nothing.

“Why do you just let it shoot you?” They were watching when he’d been climbing his web to get to the drone.

“They weren’t too bad. I figured I could take a few hits in order to see if I could,” Peter made a punching motion, “take it out.”

“But you can’t just get hit. Can’t you avoid it by swinging or something? If it was a real gun then you’d be dead.”

“If it was a real gun then I’d do it differently!”

“You do it like it’s a real gun, Peter! You don’t let yourself get shot. Ever!” There was more of that to come. May seemed exasperated by Peter’s impulsiveness. He didn’t always have a plan, but rather found a target and went for it regardless of the threats surrounding him. On the other hand, she also praised him for following his instincts, on how he quickly recovered from the roadblocks Tony had placed in front of him. On how smart she thought he was.

Training Day ended when the footage stopped rolling. May packed up the computer and set it aside in her room. She hugged him again, held him so tight that it would hurt a normal boy. “You learn from this, okay?” Learn he would. He’d avoid getting hurt unnecessarily. Would trust his instincts more.

He also ended up learning he was still grounded.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter fell into a routine. He trained at the Sandbox every Friday night, recovered and reviewed on Saturday, and studied on Sunday. Patrol time was cut in half, when he finally did get to start patrolling again that is. He’d thought that would bother him more, but with some free time on the weekdays he was able to spend more time with his friends. Something he desperately needed.

Because on the weekends he didn’t feel like a kid. He felt like a man. One who could take on anything. One who _had_ to take on anything. The responsibility weighed on him so heavy, he half feared he wouldn’t be able to stand.

Ned and MJ kept his feet on the ground though. Reminded him that they had school, they had fun, and they had a future. Peter studied for decathlon, even if he wouldn’t be able to make any trips, and he built more Lego ships with Ned, completing one of their x-wing collections. MJ joined them sometimes for evening watches of Mystery Science Theater 3000. He laughed, ate too much junk food, and found himself drawing closer to his best friends.

Worry and weight was left for weekends, worry that was shared between him and Aunt May. And sometimes even shared with Tony, despite the fact that Peter hadn’t seen him since the rebar incident.

Worry was left for today. Ned and Peter performed their handshake and parted ways once more. Peter felt himself going tense on the walk home. The fancy town car out front didn’t surprise him, nor did seeing Happy on the couch in the apartment. It didn’t excite him either, though.

He felt that weight settle on his shoulders as he grabbed the briefcase, nodding once to May when he and Happy left the apartment.

The privacy screen went up between them and Peter took the opportunity to start putting on the suit. He’d made sure to do it every time after his Day 1 training experience. He wouldn’t be caught unaware again, wouldn’t get hit when that countdown finished.

The drive was quiet, as usual, so Peter busied himself by running through the possibilities of the next scenario. They’d done retrieval, flag capture, and rescue. He was much better at avoiding the impact rounds, but still needed to work on learning his web options. Since Karen was at full operation, Peter had her give him a quick refresher.

She had just made it into the hundreds when the car came to a stop and the privacy screen lowered. Peter stretched, starting with his neck and working down to his arms. He tried to give Happy a moment to set up the drones.

_Something is coming._

Peter launched forward from his seat in the car, diving through the opening that separated him and Happy. The man started at Peter’s sudden appearance. “What the-”

“Get down!” Peter shouted as he slammed a palm into the driver’s seat, snapping it down into its rest position, and Happy with it. Later he’d feel bad about about breaking Mr. Stark’s car. Or not. Pinging noises reverberated into the car, that tell-tell sound of bullets striking metal.

They were being shot at. With real bullets.

The driver’s side window cracked, spiderwebs appearing randomly. It didn’t shatter though, “Ballistic glass,” Happy provided.“We’re being ambushed.”

“Karen, notify Mr. Stark that we’re being attacked. Send location.”

 _“I have sent the message.”_ The bullets were coming more often now, rapid fire against the side of the vehicle. Peter wondered how long the durability of the car would last. He couldn’t see out the windows anymore, too many cracks to allow a good look at their attackers.

They had no way of knowing if the enemy was closing in. Peter clenched his hand into a fist, forcing himself to think. They would be sitting ducks soon. The door was probably compromised already. Peter could get out, maybe take out a few people. But Happy… Happy was defenseless. He wouldn’t heal from a bullet wound.

_Move._

His gaze went to the other side of the car, the one that wasn’t riddled in bullets. From the window he could see the start of a tree-line almost five hundred feet away. They’d have to run the whole way. Peter slapped his chest, releasing several of the small spider drones. “Karen, can you set our spiders to intercept mode?”

_“They’re ready, Peter.”_

“Good.”

Happy hadn’t said much, but Peter saw him texting on his phone, hopefully an SOS of some kind. Then Happy reached for the glovebox, pulling out the handgun that was kept inside. Peter prayed that they wouldn’t have to use it.

Time stilled. Peter took in a deep breath. Then stepped out into the fire and pulled Happy with him.

The spider drones flew at Peter’s back, their first line of defense. He could hear one of them splinter into nothing, the victim of a well aimed slug. Still, Peter didn’t look back. He kept his eyes on Happy, on making sure that he was directly behind the man every step of the way.

 _Left_.

Peter shoved at Happy’s left shoulder, sending him down to the ground as a whistle made its way past them both. Peter gazed up at the tree-line. Only a hundred feet or so left to go. Tugging at Happy’s hand, Peter helped him back to his feet. Behind them another spider drone exploded.

Happy shouted at him, “Go! Don’t worry about me! They’re not after me!”

“I’m not leaving you, Happy!” He refused. Peter shoved him a few more times, not hard enough for Happy to lose his balance, though. The tree-line surrounded them a moment later, an obstacle for any stray bullets. “Karen, what’s the update with Mr. Stark?”

_“He has not sent a response at this time. Should I contact emergency services?”_

Peter stilled, taking in Happy’s heavy breathing and the way he limped forward. How long could they make it? Would police be another target? Who else could he call? And how many bad guys were out there?

Bark flew off the tree beside them and Peter turned to take the first real look at their attackers. Two men in black shirts and pants were carrying rifles, advancing into the forest. They had no insignias on their uniforms, but they were tactically armed. They had rifles, pistols by their sides, and comms units on their necks.

There were more of them further away, but Peter couldn’t count them all with the trees in the way. He thought of fighting, of risking himself to get Happy out. The reward was too low though. There was a good chance that Happy still wouldn’t make it, even if Peter bought him time. And there was also the risk of capture.

So, he turned back to Happy and grabbed his wrist, tugging him further into the woods.

The terrain wasn’t flat anymore, giving them good cover against the occasional bullets.

Peter tapped his chest, let loose another drone. “Karen, start surveillance mode. Keep off screen until I need it.” The spider drone lifted and took off towards the armed men, hovering high enough to be unnoticeable.

“I can’t, Peter.” Happy lagged behind, hands on his knees as he sucked in breaths. Peter ignored him, slipping under the man’s arm to brace him. It wasn’t going to work. He could carry him, but that would be slow moving… possibly slower than they were already going.

Time to switch tactics. Peter flicked his wrist, changed his web settings to one he’d never used before, one that had little use in the city. Leaning his head back, Peter gaze up at the trees then back at Happy. “I’ll be back before the two hours.” They’d dissolve by then.

With a flick of his wrist, Peter shot Happy with the camouflage webbing, making sure he was as covered as possible. Another shot at the highest limb Peter could aim for. “Peter.. Peter I don’t like heights.”

“Bet you’ll like getting shot less.” Happy flew up in the tree, back now stuck to a mostly obscured limb. Breathing deep, Peter realized that he’d been terrified. He’d been terrified for Happy, worried that if something happened to him he would never forgive himself.

But Happy was out of the way now and Peter was no longer terrified.

He was _ready_.

“Surveillance feed.” Karen quickly provided the visual, red marks indicating the most likely position of the enemy. Peter ran towards the closest one, wrist twisting naturally to pick new webs. He was fully stocked on fluid, made sure of it after his experience with Day 1.

_Dodge._

His spider-sense was so well honed now he almost saw the moves before they came, could picture in his head the danger. Peter bounced on his feet, avoiding another bullet. Black tactical clothes came into view and Peter fired. An impact web struck the target, rope like strings wrapping around the man. Now that he was immobilized, Peter stripped him of the guns he could find, and tossed them in the air to stick them far up into the tree.

The man cussed at him, then shouted to warn the others with the comms device. He followed up with, “You’re gonna be sorry, kid.”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be. Bad Guy.” Clever, Peter.

Static came across on the comms and Peter tugged at it before Bad Guy could start giving more orders.

 _“Flank the right. He’s at Mason’s position. No shooting until you see him.”_ A few more voices responded the affirmative. Based on the number of people speaking, Peter only had five more guys to deal with, then him and Happy could be on their merry way.

Inhaling another deep breath, Peter braced himself for another run. Surveillance drone picked up another red mark. It was different than training. With the Red Team Peter didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone, but here he was faced with the fear that he could kill someone. So hand to hand combat would be a last resort.

Peter fired another impact web as soon as the black uniform came into view. It met it’s mark, but the ropes failed to deploy. A burst of gunshots sounded and Peter’s sense lit up like Christmas. _Dodge. Weave. Lower. To the right._

 _“Got him.”_ Except the man didn’t. Bullets missed him by inches. Peter fired a standard web, catching the rifle by the barrel. A hard tug put the gun in his hands and another earned him the pistol. He crunched the barrels in his fists and fired another impact web. This one deployed, wrapping up Bad Guy number two.

Everything happened in a blur. Peter snagged the comms device, crushed it, and swung up into the trees, locking in on the next target.

He’d earned himself a short reprieve, noted that the rest were still further away. Bad Guy number three had a lot of explaining to do. Peter switched to his taser web and caught the man by his ankles.

The short shock had him tensing and shaking, sputtering into a now dead comms.Peter landed close and kicked the rifle away. “Sorry. I don’t like hurting people, but you’re making it difficult.” Bad Guy Three muttered some choice words. “Hey, that’s not very nice.”

Wrapping the guy up with some web, Peter positioned himself by the man’s head. “How many of you are there?” No answer, just another series of grunts and swears as Bad Guy Three tried to escape from the webs. Peter settled in a touch closer, “I’m not really good at the interrogation thing. Well, I guess I am a _little_ good. I did get answers last time. Though the last guy wasn’t really a super bad guy. Karen also used this really deep voice which weirded me out a-”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“Honestly, I’ve been kind of bummed out lately, so it’d really make my day if you guys would just stop shooting at me and Mr. Happy. Oh and tell me who you’re working for. That’d be good too.”

“What are you smoking, kid?”

Realizing they were going nowhere fast, Peter huffed out an irritated sigh and started swinging again. Maybe one of the other remaining men would be a little more forthcoming. So far he’d kept his distance during the offensive, but Peter wondered if that was the problem.

He wasn’t intimidating enough.

Close and personal. That’s what he needed.

Peter got the drop on the next goon, landing right next to him and grabbing the gun before the man could swing it around. “Don’t play with guns,” he admonished as he jerked it out of the man’s hands and tossed it far behind him. A few punches were thrown his way, but Peter avoided them easily. They danced… well Peter danced while Bad Guy Four flailed around in an attempt to hit him.

 _“Found the driver.”_ The comms device rang, distracting them both. Or maybe not. Something struck Peter in the jaw, a quick hit that threw him off balance. They had Happy. Happy who was a sitting duck, or a hanging one as Peter had left him strung up in a tree.

A click sounded behind him. A gun’s safety being turned off. Peter wondered how long it would take for him to get to Happy.

“You’re not that fast, Spiderman.”

Wasn’t he? Peter closed his eyes, exhaled. His leg muscles twitched, a preamble of what would come. Silence enveloped him, his eyes rapt in the direction he needed to go. How far could he jump, again?

Far enough.

Peter leapt, felt the earth dip under his feet as he released the built up tension in his legs. The man fired the gun, but he wasn’t quick enough on the draw. No, Peter was long gone.

 _“Shoot him.”_ Peter heard the command, ripped large chunks of bark of trees with the force of his pull on the webs. The world narrowed to just the trees and that camo in the distance. Two men with guns stood on the ground, rifles pointed upwards.

Peter sent a web grenade towards them, eyes still on Happy.

Then they were both swinging. Well, Peter was swinging and Happy was a wrapped up passenger. He didn’t need to fight. They needed to evade. They needed distance. Peter swung until he feared running out of web fluid. That distance came to an end when the trees thinned out. Still far enough away to where they couldn’t be followed on foot.

Peter dropped Happy, worked on dissolving the camouflage webbing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I should have- should have-” Tightness gripped his chest as he looked at Happy, whose face was red and clothes covered in web goo. Peter’s eyes watered at the thought of something happening to Happy.

“You did good,” he said as he placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “They forced you in a specific direction, you divided them, took out who you could. And you did your best to keep me safe. You adapted to the situation.”

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Every one of the Avengers left me, Peter.” The words didn’t make sense at first. They were like a riddle that Peter wasn’t quite getting. He stared at Happy then, taking in his exertion colored red face and casual stance. Happy wasn’t frightened. He wasn’t looking over his shoulder for enemies.

Because he knew what was going on. Because he was in on the secret. There were no enemies.

Peter stepped back, a flash of white hot anger running through him. “This wasn’t real.” He could have hurt someone. The bullets could have accidentally hit Happy. They scared him for nothing. They made him think he could get Happy killed. They… Tony Stark.

Happy took a step forward, trying to close the distance. But Peter didn’t let him, keeping an arm’s length between them still. The man sighed, “The ambush exercise is the first step up in training. But it’s also kind of shitty. Everyone feels the way you do.”

“And how do I feel?!”

“Betrayed.” Peter realized that was exactly what he felt. That’s where the anger came from. Happy opened his mouth to say something, but Peter didn’t stick around to listen. He wondered how many of the Avengers had ran away after the ambush, how many of them felt like their world was shaken.

It was a routine broken, an alliance shattered. All done in order to test him, to study him.

They were miles from the closest city, but Peter didn’t care. His body was strong, stronger than any of theirs, and he could run for hours.

He ended up running for just one before he heard the familiar sound of Iron Man’s thrusters. _Liar_. The suit landed hard in front of him, a sudden roadblock that he couldn’t escape. Or could if he put his mind to it.

The red and gold faceplate lifted and there was Tony.

“It’s over, Kid.” The suit separated further, allowing Mr. Stark to step out of it. He advanced on Peter, slowly, as if he’d run again. “Happy’s right. You did good.”

“I passed?”

Tony shrugged, “No one passes or fails the ambush. It’s hectic. You don’t know who they are or what they want. You just know that Happy, or whoever ends up in the driver’s seat, needs to be safe. Cap left him in the car for the first of it, carried him over his shoulder for the rest. Nat dislocated his shoulder dragging him around. Clint grazed him with an arrow.” Tony turned his head and muttered, “To be honest, I’m surprised he said yes when I asked if he’d do it again.”

“But why do it?”

After a beat of silence, Tony answered, his voice firm, “Because of Afghanistan.” Afghanistan. Where Tony was ambushed. Where he became Iron Man.

The fight and anger drained out of Peter. Two arms caught him under the shoulders, helped lower him to the ground as his legs gave out beneath him. “I got you,” Tony whispered.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark.”

“No you’re not. You’re pissed. You’re out of adrenaline. You just ran a good fifteen miles.” Peter went to stand back up, but a hard hand against his shoulder kept him down. “Rest. I’ve got a car coming.”

“Not sure how I feel about cars right now,” Peter managed before his eyes drifted shut and his body went lax.


	5. Chapter 5

The Parkers settled into one of the guest suites at the compound. Tony hadn’t expected to bring Peter back yet, but with the most recent training session he figured the kid was due for some suit repair and more hands on review.

He’d kept his distance as much as he was able, letting Happy take the kid back and forth to the Sandbox. With the Accords amendments entering their final drafts Tony couldn’t risk any rumors that a new team was up and running. The last thing he wanted was for Peter to fall on Ross’ radar before he was protected.

But it seemed that would be the direction he was headed. Tony pulled up his own Accords registration profile, one of the more recent amendments. It was meant to be the baseline for registration, simple data that included his Iron Man capabilities and how to best reach him. This had been his work for the past few months, setting up the criteria for self-registration and how all the information was locked down.

All hits on his record were recorded. He could see where Ross had accessed his profile by searching key terms. Flight, armaments, his Avengers connection. He could also see that the UN Council had pulled the registration file, part of the test search. Should they need an asset with specific capabilities they would be able to find it.

Self-registration that was completely voluntary had been Tony’s biggest achievement for the Accords. No one should ever be forced into it and only a handful of personnel on the council even had access to the system.

By registering himself, Tony had made Iron Man available to the world when needed. It was also his proverbial olive branch. The others, currently hiding in Wakanda, would be able to join the system, or do their own thing if they wished.

Tony sighed and pulled up the framework of the database. “FRIDAY, how is the pen testing going?”

“I have logged four weak spots, Boss.” Of course. Tony scanned over the code, frowning as he corrected a few of the issues. There were other aspects of the profile that Tony had considered. There was no location data or true names, for fear of a breach. Sure, he didn’t hide that info, but there were other heroes out there who wouldn’t give up their home or their name.

Like Peter. Peter had been his inspiration for the system. He was just a kid, but strong willed. One day his profile would be finished and then the UN would call on him. And Peter, being so noble and righteous, would answer that call.

Tony didn’t want him compromised. If the data leaked, there should be no way for organizations like Hydra getting ahold of him. There would be ramifications for Ross if a hair on the Kid’s head was out of place.

Voluntary self-registration had been the only way. Accountability on the assets. On the protectors. And accountability on those who called for them.

_“When you can do the things I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen. They happen because of you.”_

“Boss?”

“Yeah, Fri?”

“Miss Parker is asking for you.” Two hours. He’d left them to settle in long enough. Tony wrapped up the database code and locked it down.

Tony left the lab, walking the familiar corridors of the compound until he was in front of the guest suite he’d assigned to Peter and May. Through the door he could hear Peter, talking away as he usually did when he was excited, _“The bathtub is huge. You could fit a shark in there. And did you see the beds, Aunt May? They’re insane, like way bigger than regular king size ones. Probably too soft though, ya know? Like freakishly soft. Reminds me of the room in Germany. You see the closet? It’s the size of my room at home. There’s a full kitch-”_

Knocking, Tony interrupted the Kid’s tirade. When Peter answered, Tony offered up, “The fridge is stocked too.”

As expected, Peter took off towards it, leaving Tony with May. She wanted to hit him. He could tell in the way she crossed her arms and had her hand fisted. Oh she wanted to, but she wouldn’t. When he’d first warned her about the Ambush exercise she’d begged him not to do it. _It’s too much, too fast. Faking a real threat would compromise his training._ All valid points. All ones that were ignored.

But he _had_ to see how Peter would react in the field without backup. One day he would be on his own and Tony wouldn’t be there. The blindspots had to be erased.

“So. Was it worth it?”

“I think so. Peter did good.” He did better than good, but Tony knew the Kid was listening in and giving him too much praise would go to his head. “We’ve got some points to go over. Happy said there were a couple things he noticed. And I need to talk to Peter about the next step.”

“Next step?” Peter’s head appeared from the hallway leading to the kitchen.

“Yeah. You’re done at the Sandbox. Well, for solo training anyway.” Peter’s head tilted, confusion filtering across his face, so Tony continued, “Until we get more players, you need to work on combat.”

“Combat? Like close-combat? I’m more into keeping my distance.” As if to demonstrate, Peter jumped around the room and ended up sticking to the ceiling by his feet. He mocked shooting his web shooters.

Tony tried to ignore the absurdity of it, “You need actual training. Martial arts training. I don’t care what style you pick, but you need to pick one.”

Peter dropped from the ceiling and frowned. “I don’t know anything about martial arts, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, I know. Kind of the problem.”

Placing a hand on Peter’s shoulder, May agreed with a nod, “He’s right, honey. You should know how to fight.”

Peter didn’t look convinced. “I mean, who’s gonna train me? I can’t really go hand to hand with anyone. Not to sound arrogant or anything, but I’d… I’d hurt them.” Yeah, the kid didn’t sound arrogant at all. He sounded a touch scared and with good reason. Peter was strong. Selecting a good partner and teacher would have to take that into account.

The few people Tony knew who could even begin to train him weren’t exactly in the phone book. “I’m working on it. Pick a style first.”

Peter shrugged, “Alright,” then took off towards the bedroom. Tony could hear the Kid asking FRIDAY about various martial arts styles.

“So, who’s the lucky training dummy?” May gave Tony a questioning glance, as if she wasn’t quite sure about the idea.

Tony didn’t blame her. Training had never been his forte, though he was learning a lot by focusing on Peter. “Well, I’ve got a few names. Two are very good at hand to hand, but… squishy. Another one is sturdy, but wasn’t trained in any real style. They would all be good. Problem is we’re not on speaking terms.”

“You want an Avenger to train him?” Tony raised a brow. May was sharp, he’d give her that.

“Possibly.” Natasha would be ideal, but training a teenager was something she’d probably balk at. “There’s also a few locals who could work. I don’t think it matters so long as he’s safe.”

“You care about him.”

“Yeah. I do,” Tony pinned her with a soft stare, “Was that ever a question?”

“Once.” Statin Island. Or maybe when Tony had pulled him into the Avengers fight. It was hard to sift through all the mistakes he’d made when it came to Peter. Tony hoped to not make any more, but he knew better than anyone how hard those promises were to keep.

They arranged some time for tomorrow to go over the Ambush exercise, then parted ways. Until then he told them to make use of the facility however they wanted _._ FRIDAY would let him know if they needed him.

Tony was in a meeting with Pepper, well it was originally a date, but with Tony being preoccupied lately they made due with the time they had, when one of his previous phone calls showed some results. “You plan on telling me why you have a meeting scheduled with a lawyer?” Pepper showed him her calendar, now populated with a new appointment. “A lawyer who specializes in defending criminal suspects?”

“I swear it isn’t what you think.” From Pepper’s expression Tony could tell that she didn’t believe him.

“I hope not. But I need to be prepared when I get a call from the firm we have on standby. The firm that we pay a lot of money to on a regular basis. The firm that will be very offended when they find out about this.”

“It’s for the Accords. I need another set of eyes on it.” Not exactly a lie. More like a half-truth that kept her on the safer end of the secret.

“Tony, based on what I’m seeing about this guy,” Of course Pepper was already pulling up the lawyer’s information, “this is out of his league.” No doubt she was seeing the same information Tony had about the small firm in New York City.

“He’ll have a unique perspective on it.”

She pursed her lips before finally giving him a slow nod. “Alright. But you’re footing the bill. SI can’t have anything to do with an outside lawyer. So, no company books.”

“Got it. Under the table. Cash. Perhaps sexual fav-”

“Tony!”

“Okay. No cash.” Pepper laughed, hit him lightly on the shoulder. They switched back to talking about the Accords some more, flipping between general thoughts on the future and more narrowed goals for Stark Industries. She shined as the CEO while Tony flourished as an inventor. They skirted a few upcoming issues, like the pending hearings concerning the Rogue Avengers and what would happen to them when their exile was over.

Tony didn’t want to worry about that now. Not when he was days away from the Accords completion. Not when Peter was staying at the compound. And not when Pepper was smiling at him and sipping on expensive white wine.

It lasted until her phone chimed a few hours later, one of her more insistent tones. She gave it a quick glance before shooting Tony an apologetic smile. “I know, I know. Got a company to run.”

She had a company to run. Tony had a kid to train.

Things sure we’re different these days.

The next day came and Tony was reminded of how much energy Peter truly possessed. The teen was awake by dawn, according to FRIDAY, had run for almost an hour, explored almost every unrestricted room in the compound, ate half a box of cereal, which Tony didn’t even realized they had, and somehow ended up in Tony’s lab to work on the Spiderman suit. All before Tony, or May, had rolled out of bed…

_I wanna be a rocksta-_

“No. FRIDAY, kill the music.”

“Mr. Stark!” Peter jumped from his position at one of the lab tables, knocking over a handful oftools. They cluttered to the floor and the Kid began sheepishly picking them up with care.

“Kid, I swear to god if I hear bad music coming out of these speakers again, you are banned. Period. No take backs.”

“It was on the playlist…” the Kid mumbled as he tapped on his phone.

“Screen them, or better yet have FRIDAY screen them.” Tony glanced over at the suit, eyestaking in Peter’s work. He could see that there had been upgrades made to the web shooters, tiny tick marks on the vials that helped show what the levels were at a glance. Karen could easily keep track of that, but Tony knew that Peter didn’t always rely on her when he was focused on fighting. Peter trusted his eyes more than Karen.

A small smile pulled at the corner of Tony’s mouth. He recalled when JARVIS had made recommendations and he’d subsequently ignored them.

“I’ve repaired some of the ballistic damage, but I’ll probably have to test the integrity. I’m not that good at weaving.”

“It looks good, Kid,” Tony clapped Peter on the shoulder, then pointed towards the armpit of the Spiderman suit. “Gonna have to fix that though. You’re restricting lift with the overlap.” Peter moved to begin correcting it, but the hand on his shoulder held fast, “We’ll do that later.”

“Sure, Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark. Peter had never called him anything else. Tony wasn’t sure why it bothered him now, why he felt a nagging sensation in the back of his mind as the Kid said it. Tony chalked it up to his issues with authority. Peter addressed him with respect and reverence, something Tony didn’t believe he truly deserved.

It made it difficult for Tony to ask anything of the Kid, to give him options. Because Peter would always do what he thought Tony wanted.

“Listen, there’s something we have to talk about.” Pulling up a chair, Tony sat next to Peter, effectively drawing the teen’s attention from the Spiderman suit.

“Everything okay?” Peter’s leg bounced, a small sign of the kid’s anxiousness.

“Yeah, Kid. Just, with your training and the Accords, there is some stuff that’s going tocome up soon and I don’t want you to be unprepared.” Peter remained silent, his brow furrowing as that rapid mind worked to try and figure out what Tony was talking about. “There will be an announcement soon by the UN about registering people like you. And me. But more you since you’ve got the genetic edge.” That bouncing leg stilled. “Now, it’s going to be voluntary. I’m not asking you to register or anything. But one day, if the world’s in trouble, someone is going to call the people in that database. The Avengers may not be enough. I mean, we’re broken, Kid.”

“They’ll come, Mr. Stark.”

“Peter-”

“No. They will. They won’t let us fight alone.” Us. Tony wasn’t sure how to explain it to Peter. Wasn’t sure if the Kid could understand how great the divide was. How could he tell him about Ultron, or his other mistakes? How could he break this kid’s trust and innocence? Peter’s eyes narrowed and his back straightened. Every part of him was firm and solid to match his words, “We’re not a team, Mr. Stark. We’re family. A weird family, brought together by wanting to do what’s right. And you don’t let family fight alone.”

Tony gripped the arm rest on the chair, felt his chest tighten. “You really think that, Kid?”

Peter glanced towards the table, hand finding a tool, a small object he could fiddle with. “I think we’re never as alone as we feel sometimes.” Wise words from someone so small.

A sigh left Tony, long and carrying with it the stress he’d been feeling for some time. He hoped Peter was right. “I guess we’ll see when the time comes.” He took the tool from Peter’s hands, twirled it between his fingers once before setting it back down. They both needed distraction, but now wasn’t the time for it. “Until then, we should get ourselves ready.”

Tony pulled up the Ambush videos and signaled that he was ready for May to enter. This was the first time they had all done a review together. He remembered when the Avengers team used to do this, crowded around in conference rooms, criticizing every mistake and opening. With Peter he had taken a softer approach. He’d sent guidance to May, who focused on the good aspects, before alternating to the negative.

The sandwich method, as Pepper had explained it. Good, Bad, Good.

They reviewed the initial footage from inside the town car. Peter’s instincts were far more honed now than the first Sandbox training day. He reacted in fractions of a second, moving to the front of the car before Tony could even see why. The boy looked scared, but still focused. He wasn’t letting his fear stop him from protecting Happy.

May gripped the back of Tony’s chair as she stood behind him. She’d already watched the event live, but it seemed rewatching it was still nerve inducing. “That was clever.” She mumbled when Peter snapped the car seat down. May made another sound of approval when Peter took them away from the shooting and into the woods.

“So, you’re distracted by so many options. You went for evasion then shifted to face the enemy. Why?” Tony paused the video, pointing out some of Peter’s decisions.

“Happy can’t go as fast as me. Running was too slow. I figured we needed to get some of them off our back.”

“Right. But you’re strong.. You can carry him.”

“Yeah, but it’s not as easy with someone heavy. Not that I’m saying he’s fat! Or too heavy for me. It’s just.. His own weight will hurt him after a minute. And if I swing too fast he could get other injuries. Or hit a tree or something.” It wasn’t anything that Tony didn’t know already. Spiderman often carried children when needed, but he rarely carried adults. What Tony really wanted was for Peter to come up with a solution to those limitations. Like the solution he eventually used in the heat of the moment.

Realization settled onto Peter’s face as he thought of when he did eventually carry Happy. “He was webbed up. Cocooned. That’s why I didn’t worry about it later.” Blindspot eliminated.

They moved through the rest of the ambush, to when Peter confronted the enemy. There were a few points that May brought up, that Peter should work on what he says. It’s obvious after a few minutes that he’s not very old, a fact that wouldn’t do him any favors if the bad guys caught on. Tony didn’t disagree, but he was always amused when Peter rambled away during the middle of a fight.

They finished the review, worked on the suit for a little while longer. Peter mentioned that he wanted to learn Capoeira, or maybe another form of Brazilian fighting. Finding an instructor for that would be a little more difficult. Tony contemplated it for a moment before announcing, “We can start with Jiu Jitsu and boxing. Both will be useful. I’ll work on getting an instructor for Capoeira after you’ve finished some basics.”

“Thanks, Mr. Stark,” Peter said and gave Tony a genuine smile of appreciation.

“You bet, Kid.”

Immersing themselves in their work, the two invented, created, and only had a single minor lab explosion.

May was less than amused…


	6. Chapter 6

The Parkers returned home on Sunday, leaving Tony to himself for a couple of days. He spent most of his time in his lab, finalizing the database and prepping some of the legal work for the Accords Amendments. Rhodey had stopped by for a few hours during this time, helped to review some of the updates Tony had made. So far he had been Tony’s biggest support during the legal process.

Though Rhodey always brought up other subjects during their short visits.

“They’ll be coming back soon.” Rhodey didn’t have to expand on who he was referring to. Tony had been bracing for that particular update for a while now. “You ready to see them?”

“No,” Tony exhaled. “But it’s a big compound. I could probably avoid them for a year or so.”

“It’s just Natasha for now. Clint will be heading to the farm. Steve and Sam are going to Brooklyn. And the witch is going to stay in Wakanda for a while.” Rhodey placed a thin folder onTony’s desk. He quick picked it up and sifted through the papers. A few photos taken outside of Wakanda’s borders. It wasn’t stalking, so much as mentally preparing to see them in person.

“Barnes?” There were no photos of him, though Tony hadn’t really expected the Winter Soldier to be out and about yet.

“He’s still under, last I heard.”

“They using BARF?” BARF. Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing. He’d sent the device, along with a short series of instructions, to the king of Wakanda. It’d been a stupid, spur-of-the-moment olive branch that Tony had held out after he’d recovered from Siberia. A method of possibly ending Barnes’ programming.

“I didn’t ask.” And that was all they said about that. Tony would deal with the return of the Avengers later. Until then, he needed to get a tall drink with Rhodey and forget about databases for a few more minutes. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t to forget about the past.

All thoughts of the Accords and Avengers were pushed to the side when Wednesday rolled around. An appointment on Tony’s calendar blocked off part of his day. He spent the morning preparing for it, checking on any recent activities concerning the lawyer.

Said lawyer arrived ten minutes before the scheduled appointment and with some help from FRIDAY, navigated his way into the lobby where Tony waited. His suit was nice. Not an expensive brand, but sharp enough to look good in court. He was about as tall as Tony, with dark hair and facial scruff. It wasn’t as trimmed as his own, but that would be a difficult feat for the man considering his ailment.

Matt Murdock’s red tinted glasses kept Tony from being able to read his eyes. He carried a distinctive white cane, the device tapping the floor on occasion. He’d known that Murdock was blind, but was still surprised to see it when he was also aware of the man’s other activities as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen.

“Mr. Murdock,” Tony greeted, then extended a hand. The other man shifted slightly, head turning to better face Tony’s direction. It was subtle, just enough to sell the story. “Thank you for coming.” When it was clear that Murdock didn’t plan on rising for the bait, Tony let his arm drop back to his side.

There was a short heavy pause between them before Murdock responded, “Didn’t think saying ‘no’ was an option, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah, I suppose that’s true.” There was a terse smile on Murdock’s face and no sign that he was amused. Tony figured this man would be a hard one to win over. “Well, I guess we can head to my office. Want a guide?”

Murdock gave a short nod and lifted his hand, palm out to accept Tony’s elbow. “Thank you.” They started forward together. Tony tried to ignore the pressure of the other man’s hand gripping his arm. “So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about? Your message was a little vague.” Intentionally so. Tony couldn’t really lay out the true reason of this meeting over an unsecured line.

“You been keeping up with the news on the Sokovia Accords?”

The man gave a small nod, “Hard to miss when it’s dominating the news. Though it isn’t really my focus of law.”

“Criminal defense, right? You know, I could have used someone like you in my younger days.”

“I have a feeling you had ten of me, all better qualified and all with more work than they could handle.” A tiny bit of mirth made it’s way to Murdock’s face. Small victories.

“Yeah, but they wouldn’t have been near as fun.” Tony pulled his elbow from Murdock’s grasp as they entered the office, “Here we are.”

For a moment, Tony just watched him step into the room, the white cane dancing across the floor and gently bumping against furniture. Murdock rested a hand on theback of a chair, but didn’t move to sit down.

He looked blind. Acted blind. But Tony had videos of the Devil performing feats that no normal blind man ever could.

“So, the Accords?” Murdock prodded, spurring Tony from his rooted position in the office. Tony stepped towards his desk and reached for a small glass paperweight that usually stayed in the corner. It was engraved with an elegant, _“World’s Best Boss”._ A snarky gift from Pepper. Not too heavy, like a handful of batteries.

“Well, they will be finalized tomorrow. After that there’ll be an announcement about registering enhanced individuals. Like myself. It’s voluntary… well you’ll hear about it, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure I will.” Murdock tilted his head, signaling his confusion, “Listen, Mr. Stark, I still don’t understand what you need from me?”

Tony gripped the paperweight and gave a sideways glance towards Murdock. Then he threw the paperweight. It wasn’t a hard throw, more like a toss. An easy toss that could be caught by a child, really.

Even still, it smacked Matt Murdock right in the cheek, knocking the man’s glasses askew.

The thud of impact had Tony lifting his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Oh.” Shit…

Murdock’s mouth dropped open in surprise, fingers touching the reddening spot on his cheek. “Did you throw something at me?”

“I really thought you were going to catch it.”

“I know I didn’t exactly come out and say this, but I figured the glasses and cane would give it away. A man as smart as you shouldn’t need to be told that I’m blind.”

“Well, duh. That doesn’t mean _you_ can’t catch something.” Tony quickly maneuvered himself to his desk. He shifted the monitor around, then let out an audible sigh when he realized that Murdock couldn’t even see what was on the screen. Hearing it, though, was another story. There were grunts, the sounds of fists hitting flesh.

Surveillance video that FRIDAY had pulled from a gas station camera. There were at least five more in the same file, but Tony had a feeling that just one would be enough. They were both smart men. Murdock probably had a sense of what was coming the second that he’d gotten Tony’s phonecall. 

Murdock frowned, taking a step towards the monitor. He tilted his head, but remained silent.

“I had FRIDAY, my artificial intelligence, perform a scan for all info concerning the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Using that we narrowed down location, potential identities. We didn’t narrow it down to you until Wilson Fisk was taken into custody. He has a pretty significant security system, full audio, too.” Murdock’s body tensed and Tony found himself adjusting his tone to a less threatening one, softer now, “Don’t worry, you’re not the only vigilante I’ve come across and reached out to.”

He straightened up, one hand adjusting his glasses then going to his tie. He looked more annoyed than surprised, voice laced with an agitated tone, “So, now that we’re down to the real reason for this visit, what do you want?” Yeah, he was probably real annoyed having to drive out from the city for this…

“You’re a boxer right?”

There was a brief pause, a moment where Murdock probably considered lying, before settling on admitting, “Boxing, some Kung-Fu.”

“Right, I know you’re based in Hell’s Kitchen, but you do other work across the city. What I need from you is sort of… delicate.” One of the main reasons Tony had picked Murdock had been the three L’s of real estate. Location, Location, Location. Hell’s Kitchen was close to Queens.

“If this is some sort of vigilante-for-hire kind of-”

“No. Not exactly. You’re good. You’re not only good, you’re damn near superhuman. Which is sort of necessary for what I’m looking for.”

Murdock huffed, “Get on with it, Stark.”

“Right. I’ve got this kid. He’s enhanced. Does what you do, sort of. I want you to teach him to fight.”

The response Tony got was not what he’d expected. Matt Murdock laughed, a quick bark of laughter that was almost offensive. “You can’t be serious.”

“I know you’re in a bit of a spot when it comes to your firm. I could make it a little easier. All I need is a one day a week, a few hours. You teach him everything you can. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was a good fit.”

“You want to pay me to train some kid to box?” He sounded like the idea was an incredulous one, tone still huffy and mouth turned down in a frown.

“That’s it.” Tony moved around the desk and sat on the edge of it, positioned in front of Murdock. He slipped a flash drive into the blind man’s hand.“Oh and if you want to review the Accords Amendment concerning registration then that’ll be a plus.”

“The Accords are above my pay grade, Stark.” Despite his words, Murdock put the flash drive in his pocket.

“They impact all of us. You’ll need to know where you stand once registration begins. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen might save the world some day.” A beat passed and Tony ran a hand across his face. He was grateful that Murdock couldn’t see the display of nervousness. Their meeting so far had been weird and confrontational, but it was clear that Murdock accepted Tony knowing his secret.

There was a soft tapping noise, Murdock’s fingers as they touched the flash drive in his pocket. “I’ll think about teaching the kid.”

“I appreciate it. Send me the details for when, where, and how much.”

“I have an intern. You’ll be paying her salary until this is over.” Tony perked up at the negotiation.

“Karen Page?” Tony asked, though it was barely a question.

One of Murdock’s brows lifted, “Is there anything you don’t know?”

“Tons. Like how’d the blind, but not blind, thing happen? Was it radioactive, because I know a guy who deals with that kind of thing.” Tony jumped off the desk, watched as Murdock took a step back to give him space. He’d given up the game now, the one where he played blind. “Need an escort out?”

Murdock’s smile was all teeth. “No.”

Tony watched him walk out the office, then shifted the monitor again so he could further watch him leave the building. Murdock didn’t miss a single step, completely accurate in every motion he made whether it was grabbing a door handle or sidestepping a pillar. The man was lethal, controlled. Yeah, he’d make a good match for Spiderman. Maybe one day he’d make a good Avenger too.

When the lawyer was long gone, Tony redirected his focus to the Accords. Tomorrow the announcement would be made that the Sokovia Accords and its six amendments were finalized. It’d taken a team of lawyers and almost a year to get to this point.

The Avengers would be free to return to the states, fully pardoned. Then registration would open. The UN would conduct another vote on the Accords council, twenty people who will be responsible with the impossible task of keeping the world from destruction.

It would be out of Tony’s hands in less than 24 hours, a problem for people better than him to solve. So close he could taste the apple pie flavored freedom.

A set of packed bags were by his suite when he left the office, courtesy of his wonderful Pepper. Stark Industries may be keeping its hands away from the Accords, but Pepper wanted him to be focused and ready for the public announcement.

Within hours he was boarded on a jet, thrums of anxiety coursing through him as he mentally prepared for what was to come. He tried to deny the underlying fear, of how he would soon be facing those who fought against him in Germany and Siberia. He tried not to think of how the Kid would be setting foot in the compound that may house those who tried to kill him.

Tony tried hard not to be frightened, but Tony was as known for his successes as he was for his failures.


	7. Chapter 7

Peter checked his phone once more before glancing back up at the sign on the building in front of him. _Fogwell’s_. The lettering on the window was old, some of it faded and chipped away. The text he’d gotten from Mr. Stark was short and to the point, as always. A date, time, and location with a simple request to wear something appropriate for a gym.

Peter stood outside the building for a few more minutes, hesitant to step inside. The front lights were off, but a few in the back were still illuminated. It was obvious the place was closed for the night. Nervously, Peter pulled his backpack tighter to his shoulder and started for the door.

It opened with ease, despite the turned ‘Closed’ sign at his back. The slight smell of sweat and gym mats lingered in the air. Underneath it all he could detect that metallic tang of blood. A boxing ring was featured at the center, surrounded by open space. At the edges of the large space was other workout equipment and punching bags. Simple, no frills. Peter liked it.

He dropped his backpack near the ring and made his way towards the back of the room. There were two doors that led elsewhere, probably an office and a bathroom. Neither had windows but that sensation in his head told him he wasn’t alone in the building.

Tentatively, Peter called out, “Hello?”

One of the doors opened, revealing a man in a white undershirt, sweatpants, and no shoes. “You’re early.” The man’s voice was low and a little gravelly.His face had a few days of scruff, reminding Peter a little bit of Tony, even if a bit younger. From the well defined muscles on his arms, Peter could tell the man kept himself in shape.

“Yeah, I didn’t want Mr. Stark to worry if I was late.”

“Mr. Stark, huh?” The slightly amused man approached and Peter noticed that even though he was facing his direction, he wasn’t really looking at him. If anything he was more turned to _hear_ him. Peter took a couple steps closer and the man’s hand came up, palm open. “My name’s Matt.”

Peter took it for a quick handshake and replied, “Peter.” There passed a brief pause, the man, Matt, seeming to size him up. How he managed, Peter wasn’t quite sure.

“How old are you, Peter?”

“16.”

The corner of Matt’s mouth pulled down in a frown. “And how long have you been beating up bad guys for?”

“About a year and a half.” Another pause, “How about you?”

“Longer.” Matt was smiling now, stance a little more relaxed. He turned away from Peter, waving a hand for the kid to follow, “So, you want to learn how to box?” They came to a stop by one of the punching bags.

“Sort of.” He hadn’t really given much thought to boxing. When Tony had talked about him learning a fighting style this wasn’t what he’d had in mind. But he planned on following the path that Mr. Stark laid out for him, no matter where it took.

“We could do something else. Boxing isn’t always useful for what we do, but you’ll learn how to take hits with it.”

Peter let out a small chuckle, before catching Matt’s confused expression. “Sorry. I’ve spent the last couple of months trying not to get hit.”

Matt didn’t say anything to that, instead choosing to climb into the boxing ring. Peter followed him up there, feeling a touch out of place. Matt, however, was practically vibrating with energy. He shifted into a boxer’s stance, arms bent and fists protecting his face.

Peter tried to mimic the position, but Matt was shaking his head. “Feet further apart. Bring your dominant hand up, almost to your chin.” Matt dropped out of the stance, moving over to Peter to make the quick adjustments. Then he returned back to the opposing side of the ring. “Okay, Peter. We’re going to get a quick feel for each other.”

“Don’t we need gloves or something?”

“Not this time. I need to see how you normally fight.” Matt took two bouncing steps forward, shoulders moving with the rhythm of those steps. He was in Peter’s space a moment later, sending a quick jab towards his face. Peter dodged it with ease, slipping in a semi-circle around Matt.

Careful of his strength, he struck out with a soft counter jab, aiming for Matt’s chin. He released a surprised huff when the man jerked back and avoided the hit. “You’re pulling your punches, kid.”

“If I didn’t and I hit you, you’d probably end up with a dislocated jaw or something.”

“Let me worry about getting hit.”

They didn’t box, not exactly. Peter tried to hit Matt and Matt tried to hit Peter. He was surprisingly fast and agile, with a honed instinct similar to Peter’s. From the moment Peter would flex for a strike, Matt would already be bouncing into a dodge. And Peter had to rely on his spider-sense to avoid the quick jabs that Matt sent his way.

There was one cross punch that almost made contact, the barest of grazes against Matt’s jaw. Peter tampered down on the swell of victory, then squashed it completely when Matt grinned. Peter hadn’t been the only one pulling his punches. Matt was quick to shift tactics, throwing in a few combos.

His fist connected into Peter’s side, the fourth punch, a hook, in a rapid series. A normal man would have been finished, broken ribs possibly. Peter’s breath left him in a rush and he felt a blossom of pain spread across the area. Bruised for sure, but a light one at least.

Matt’s hand went to Peter’s shoulder to stabilize him. “Sorry, kid.”

“No, s’alright.” They were both breathing a little heavier now, Matt from exhaustion and Peter from adrenaline. Peter’s eyes found a clock on the wall. It’d only been ten minutes, despite feeling like an hour.

Matt stepped away, found a towel that had been resting on the rope of the ring. Wiping his brow he gave Peter a quick assessment, “So, I think you can work on your technique for punching. Doesn’t hurt to have a strong base. Though boxing isn’t really a good fit for you.”

“I thought Mr. Stark wanted me to learn how to box.”

From another spot near the ring, Matt grabbed two water bottles. He tossed one to Peter. “Stark wanted me to teach you. I know a lot more than boxing, Peter.”

“Oh. So what’s a good fit for me?” Peter took a few long swallows of the water, almost sighing with how good it tasted.

“Everything. Boxing for when you need to take a hit, Akido when your opponent hits too hard. You should mix it up, learn to roll from one style to another.”

“Where do we start?”

“With technique. Punches, kicks. When you’re good on that we’ll move on to pressure points, arm bars, grappling. Most fights end up on the ground so you should learn how to get back up or get control.”

Matt guided him towards one of the punching bags, briefly touching his arms to get Peter into a good punching position. He listened carefully, head cocked to the side, as Peter punched the bag. It was sturdier than he’d expected, barely drifting with each hit. He hit it a little harder, surprised to feel a slight sting in his knuckles. “Stark sent it over a few days ago,” Matt answered Peter’s unspoken question.

“Cool.”

They continued for another ten minutes, Matt occasionally correcting his form or giving praise. Then he set Peter aside and demonstrated a few kicks. Peter found he had more power behind them, the punching bag swaying more as his shin hit it. There was a sense of pride in the training. Matt patted him on the back, a small smile on his face. Peter’s face felt flushed at the praise.

“I’m starting to think Muay Thai would be a good fit for you.” Another quick compliment as Matt tapped Peter’s hip. “You’re more coordinated with your lower half, despite the arm strength. What do you do all day, climb ropes? Core strength is off the charts.”

Peter couldn’t help but release a short laugh. “Something like that.”

Matt shot him a knowing smirk and then waved him to keep going at the bag. Peter found that the man knew how to keep the regiment going with very few breaks.

“Are you going to register?” The question hung in the air. They were seated by the ring now, drinking water and giving their bodies a chance to recover.Matt tilted his head to give Peter a once-over. For a moment Peter could almost feel a heated anger from the man’s blank gaze.

“No. Not in this lifetime or the next.”

“They might need you one day.”

“Peter, if they need me then the world’s already screwed. Besides all the identity issues, do you really want to be someone’s puppet, always at the beck and call of the supposed good guys?” Matt’s words were hard and firm. It made Peter feel that he had been someone’s puppet once before.

“Can I call you? Like, if I need you?”

That strain melted off of Matt’s face and Peter got a quick smile and a slap on the shoulder. “Anytime, Peter.”

They hadn’t known each other but a few hours, but there was something that connected them. That small time vigilante thing they seemed to do. Sure, Matt ended up beaten black and blue, but he still did it, night after night.

“And you call me. I’m in Queens so I can get here in no time.”

A harsh chuckle left the man, “I don’t want to think about what Stark would do to me if you got killed in Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Yeah, he’s a little overprotective. But I think he’s just scared.” Matt hummed at that.

Then they went back to the bag. Peter kicked at it some more, felt the impact wash over him. There was something different about training with Matt versus Tony. There were no tests to follow and no expectations to fail. There was just heavy breathing and sweat, the signs of soreness and the struggle to be better. Matt didn’t need to win against an enemy. He needed to win against his own limits.

The training continued past their slotted hour, but neither seemed to mind. Peter could feel the strain in his arms as he used muscles that weren’t normally engaged. It was one of the first times he’d found a limit to his body without being forced into it.

Just as he turned to mention it to Matt, a shrill sound cut through his concentration, the sound of car breaks being pushed to their limits and a high pitched scream of pain. Outside, less than a hundred yards away. Matt must have heard it too because his back went ramrod straight, all attention focused on listening for more, trying to discern the situation.

Peter stepped towards the door, abruptly stopped by a solid hand landing on his chest. His gaze landed sharply on Matt’s face, the man’s mouth pulled into a tight line as he asked, “What are you planning on doing? You don’t have a suit. Besides, someone is already calling an ambulance.”

“Oh.” Wait… what? Peter’s head tilted as he felt his senses opening and spanning across the distance.

 _“Please hurry, I don’t think she’s going to make it.”_ An unknown man, voice shaking with fear and sadness. The words of the operator on the other end, disjointed and dulled, saying something about how they would do their best.

It was far away, a strain on Peter’s hearing. He could feel a creeping pain in the back of his skull and behind his eyes, a sign that he should stop listening so intently. It overwhelmed him, withdrawing to such a small space. He could hear the heavy thudding of Matt’s heart, the grating chains of the punching bag as it still swung lightly. The dim light of the gym humming and sounding like thunder.

“Easy, Peter.” Hands clasped over his ears, cupping perfectly to limit the stimulus. Peter hadn’t realized he was swaying until it came to a sudden stop. “Shut it down, kid.” Peter gripped the wrists, anchoring himself to the present. Shut it down?

“What?” Too loud. Peter’s question had Matt jerking back a little.

“Focus.” The hands left his ears, fingertips eventually landing on Peter’s skull. Then they tapped hard against two points above his neck, three times in rapid succession. Silence enveloped Peter for one long moment and his eyes shot wide open to land on Matt. Lines of frustration spread from the man’s eyes and across his forehead. He looked angry, but also a little relieved as he slipped his wrists from Peter’s grip. “Christ, did Stark teach you anything?”

“What was that?” Peter was surprised to find his voice normal again, no longer trying to shout over the background noise.

“Reboot of the auditory nerve.” Matt didn’t explain any further.

“How’d you know to do it?”

“You were breathing in tune to my heart rate. Made sense that you were having trouble shutting anything out. Plus, hearing is kind of my specialty.”

Peter couldn’t count the number of times he’d been brought to his knees from his senses going into overdrive. Sight was easier to control, but touch and hearing were always so overwhelming when it happened. And now he had a method to bring it to a standstill? He brought a hand to the back of head, finding the place that Matt had tapped.

“So all this time and Stark never worked out how to control your senses?” Peter could tell that the man wasn’t pleased at the thought.

He didn’t want Matt to be left with a bad impression of Mr. Stark. “I mean, we tested them. Trying to see limits.”

“Well, one of your limits is going to be over-stimulus and getting it under control. We’ll work that into your training.” Matt spoke from experience so Peter just nodded. He’d always worried that he’d be left vulnerable on patrol.

The whole experience brought their training to a standstill for the night. Once more Matt demonstrated the tapping technique and how Peter would have to apply it to himself. Then they worked out a time for their next training session.

It would be once a week, but Matt promised quality over quantity. He also mentioned that Peter should have a suit nearby, just in case Hell’s Kitchen decides to be Hell’s Kitchen… whatever that meant.

When it was time to leave, Peter found himself grinning ear to ear, revealing in the light soreness he felt in his overworked arms and legs.


	8. Chapter 8

Mr. Stark didn’t reach out for a while. Deep down Peter knew that the man was dealing with the accords,registration, and the arrival of the rogue avengers, but he couldn’t help feeling like he was forgotten. Aunt May commented on it after there had been radio silence for two weeks. Peter had just shrugged and said his training with Matt was progressing.

Ned loved hearing about it too.

“So, he’s enhanced?”

“A little. He has this radar thing where he uses sounds around him to create a mental image.”

“That’s so cool. Do you think he was bit by a bat or something?” Peter wished that had been Ned’s only weird question. “ _Can he hang from rafters?_ ” And, “ _Maybe it was a dolphin bite?_ ” Followed by, _“Does he use echolocation, like eek eek eek?_ ”

“Not every power comes from a animal bite, Ned.”

That seemed to redirect his focus a little, away from the enhanced and on to the training itself. “So what were you guys doing last weekend?”

“Submissions,” Peter supplied, then rolled his shoulders. Just thinking about the armbars that Matt had put him through last week was enough to bring back a minor ache. They didn’t really follow a routine, just worked on various techniques until Matt felt they were comfortable enough to try them out in the ring.

And every time Peter was left in awe of how skilled the man was. Matt pushed himself hard and pushed Peter too. He forced him to rely on more than just his spider sense, to learn how to anticipate an attack based on body language and breathing.

He thought of the different styles they had been through already, mind occupied with it until Ned and Peter finished their walk from school. Normally they’d be walking to Ned’s, but today he’d been given permission to stay a couple of nights at Peter’s place.

May wouldn’t usually cover for Ned, but she’d made a single exception this weekend.

Because Saturday was Ned’s birthday and the one thing he wanted to do more than anything was watch Peter be Spiderman. Since it was dangerous for Ned to be out with him on patrol, Peter figured watching a sparring match would be the next best thing. So he’d asked Matt during their last session if he could bring a spectator.

_“I guess I have to bring my A-game, huh? Can’t have someone see me getting my ass kicked by a teenager.”_

Ned was bouncing with excitement as he watched Peter pack his backpack, shoving some ace bandages in along with his suit. May stood in the doorway, arms crossed and observing the two with a slight smile.

Most Fridays, Peter would just swing himself over to Hell’s Kitchen. But with Ned in tow May had said she’d drive them over and pick them up. The fact that she would get to meet Peter’s new training partner was just a bonus…

The car ride was long, but gave them all enough time to go over the ground rules.

Ned doesn’t leave the gym under any circumstances.

Peter calls as soon as the training is over.

No getting shot or stabbed with rebar.

“This isn’t Queens, Peter.” May leveled a glance at him in the rear-view mirror, “I know you’ve been coming here for a few weeks now, but you have Ned with you. Don’t take any chances.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

As they climbed out of the car, Peter heard the bell of the gym door and looked over to see Matt stepping out of the building. Matt headed towards them, hands in his suit pockets and head held up. Peter noted that he wasn’t wearing his glasses even though it was clear that he’d just gotten off work. The man must have come straight to the gym in order to meet their slotted training time.

Either that or he’d chosen his attire in order to impress Aunt May…

Catching sight of her with a sideways glance, Peter could see she was a little impressed. Almost too impressed if the blushing on her cheeks was anything to go by.

“Mrs. Parker,” Matt held out a hand which was promptly taken by May’s in a quick handshake, “Pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Hmm.” His aunt hummed and Matt’s smile only widened. Peter frowned at the exchange.

“You have a good kid here. I’m glad our paths crossed.”

May finally found her tongue, “Yeah, Tony has a way of making things happen, I guess.”

“I’d have to agree with that. Stark’s nothing if not dedicated to getting his way.” The two adults shared small knowing grins.

“Thanks for this, by the way. Peter’s been getting himself into all kind’s of mischief so I’m happy to see that he’s getting prepared for… everything.” May trailed off with a wave of her hand.“And for letting Ned come. He’s Peter’s biggest fan.” Inwardly, Peter groaned. Ned, however, was still teeming with excitement, not enough sense to take it down a notch in front of the grown ups.

“Boxing is a spectator sport, after all. And it’s good to have support in this kind of life.”

There was more small talk and an exchange of phone numbers.

May looked like she wanted to spectate Matt all day long. Peter almost gagged. Instead, though, he moved forward to give Matt a pat on the shoulder. “Okay, time to get this party started.” The older man, still grinning, gave a final wave at May before stepping towards the gym door.

“Stay safe, boys,” She called out after them.

“We will,” Both Ned and Peter answered back.

When the car was out of sight, Matt finally faced them. “She’s sweet.”

“And hot,” Ned supplied only to be elbowed by Peter.

Matt laughed, “No denying that.”

“Gross. That’s my Aunt, dude.” The man only laughed again before heading to the back room to change.

Peter’s attention shifted to Ned, watching as his best friend walked around the gym. “This is so cool.” It wasn’t really. In fact the place was a little run down and small compared to some of the chain places. But Ned was easy to impress in that way. A touch of innocence that Peter sometimes wished he still had.

Ned was taking a few mock jabs at the punching bag when Matt finally returned, dressed in sweatpants and a plain white tee. Peter’s eyes went to his feet which were barefoot, then the man’s taped hands.

Looks like they were starting in the ring today. There was no preamble to it. Both of them slid between the ropes and took positions facing one another. Ned pulled up a chair to watch, mouth agape as Matt launched into his first attack.

A swift kick towards Peter’s knee that never made it’s mark. Peter didn’t even use his sense for it, instead watched the way Matt’s body bounced to shift his weight. Another kick, this time aimed for Peter’s ribcage. _Move in._ Matt had taught to close distance when the opportunity presented itself. _Take the fight to the ground._

It was a direct contradiction to Tony’s method of fight from afar, butTony wasn’t teaching him to fight right now. The Devil was.

Peter spotted the moment that Matt’s balance was primarily on the ball ofhis rear leg, a fraction of a moment even. Peter dove for him, shoulder slamming against Matt’s upper chest. They fell to the floor of the ring together, a mess of limbs trying to get the upper hand.

The time they had spent training on grappling moves hadn’t been extensive, just enough for Peter to learn that Matt wasn’t afraid to dig knuckle deep into pressure points. A hand smacked Peter’s jaw, thumb searching for that soft spot at the junction of his throat and mandible. If Matt made contact, then he’d be forcing Peter’s head to the ground in no time.

Instinctively, Peter shoved the hand away from his face with his forearm. Then he fought instinct, that churning need to quickly disengage when the threat was removed. Matt had taught him this too. _“Stay close until it’s done, Peter. If they’re a fighter then they expect you to move back, to have to regain your bearings. Don’t give them opportunity. Just drive forward and keep hitting until they don’t move.”_

His forearm slid against Matt’s, palm open and ready to grab when the time came. Peter’s fingers caught against a wrist, but he kept the momentum, kept pushing the gripped wrist forward as he maintained control of Matt’s arm.

_“Use the body’s natural pivot points. The body follows the head. The shoulders follow the arms.”_

Matt was under him now, one shoulder lifting from the ground as Peter pulled on his wrist.

Peter fumbled a little with the steps, being extra careful with his strength as he slowly torqued Matt’s wrist. _Submit._ The corded muscles in Matt’s arm offered resistance, the man’s jaw clenched as he cocks his head to ‘glare’ at Peter. How far could he push Matt? Would he force Peter to break his arm? With Ned watching? “ _Hit them until they don’t move.”_

A few more centimeters of rotating and Matt’s elbow would be hyperextended. A little more after that and the arm could snap. He listened carefully to Matt’s breathing, noted each quick inhale and strained exhale. Twist, just a pinch.

Matt’s body jerked, just a fraction. So slight that a normal human would have missed it.

Then Peter heard the solid tap tap against the boxing ring floor. Practically shoving Matt away, Peter released him and let out a long breath.

“Damn, Kid. I didn’t realize it would take bringing in a friend to get you to not let go.” Matt pushed himself into a seated position, shooting a grin towards Peter.

“Huh?”

“You tend to go weak near the end.” At Peter’s confused glance, Matt expanded,“When we do submissions you don’t want to put your strength into it. So you go lax, your grip weakens. It lets me regain the upper hand.” Matt jerked a thumb in Ned’s direction. “Showing off for your buddy?”

Was he? Peter turned to look at his friend, who was still sitting there a little slack jawed. Maybe he was showing off a little.

Spiderman was Ned’s hero, after all.

“I guess I didn’t-” A car rumbled outside, seeming to come to a stall outside the gym. A quick look over at Matt told Peter that the newcomer was an expected one.

“Well I took a gamble on it. I got a... friend who’s swinging by to join us.”

“A friend? I didn’t know you had any friends.”

“Dude. You make jokes with your sensei?” Instead of giving Ned a sideways look of reprimand, Peter kept his gaze on the gym door that was slowly opening.

“God, it smells like a urinal in here.” The black haired woman grumbled as she stepped inside, eyes darting around the room. Finally her gaze landed on Matt and Peter.

“Good to see you too, Jones.” The woman, Jones, grunted in response. Peter took in her leather jacket and jeans. She didn’t look prepared to join them…

“So, is this the wonder kid?”

Wonder kid? Matt mentioned him?

A reassuring hand fell heavy on Peter’s shoulder. Matt gave him a solid squeeze and smiled. “Yep. You just missed him kicking my ass.”

“Jessica Jones.” She shoved a hand out, which Peter took instinctively.

Then she tightened her grip and Peter realized he’d made a mistake. “Out of the ring, Murdock.” Jessica demanded, her entire focus on Peter as she maintained a hold of his hand.

She was strong. As strong as one of Tony’s gauntlets maybe. Could she crush him? Right now he only felt that viselike grip, not enough to break anything, but enough to tell him that he wouldn’t be able to easily pull free.

“Dude.”

“Have the spectator step back for me.” Another demand from the woman. “Murdock tells me you’re strong. That you take it easy on him since he’s breakable.”

“Yeah… uh…I mean Yes Ma’am.” Another flex of Jessica’s hand and Peter felt a quick stab of pain in his knuckles. His free hand went to her wrist, an effort to try and tug out of her hold.

“Gotta warn you, Kid. I’m not breakable.”

 _Red Alert. Crazy Lady._ Her smile was all teeth as she jerked him forward, her left hand fisted and coming quickly towards his face. She was brute force, driven and unstoppable. If he didn’t have that warning in the back of his head, Jessica would have broken his nose for sure. Instead her fist grazed his cheek, leaving a sting in it’s wake.

She went to kick him in the midsection and Peter’s hands were already rising to take the hit. His mind ran through the options. Push her away? Pull her in? Use her momentum? None of those ended up coming to fruition.

Jessica’s kick landed against his left forearm. A resounding crack echoed through the gym, or maybe it was just his overly sensitive hearing that heard it.

Peter hadn’t prepared himself for the hit, hadn’t given himself opportunity to redirect her energy and force. He’d ignorantly assumed that she wouldn’t have the strength to actually hurt him, despite her test handshake.

His broken arm said she was more than strong enough to lay him out if he gave her the opportunity.

The pain hit abruptly, a burning sensation that wrapped around his forearm. It was so unexpected that Peter felt his eyes water. It was just a slight fracture, nothing that wouldn’t heal in a day or so.

But, still, the shock of the hit had him stalling, alarms sounding in the back of his head. 

Jessica jumped forward again, fist flying towards Peter’s face. This time he caught her hand in his palm, like he’d once caught the silver fist of the Winter Soldier. Except she didn’t give him a stunned look and he didn’t give her snark.

She swung with her other fist, aiming for his jaw and Peter caught that arm too, tucking it under his shoulder.

Ha! Peter almost gave a victory grin. Almost.

Her head met the bridge of his nose. Another crack sounding. He saw stars and took two steps backwards before falling on his butt. Somewhere behind him he could hear Matt and Ned talking.

“Peter!”

“He’s fine, Ned.”

“But that’s a lot of blood…”

_Move!_

Peter rolled to his right, following his instincts. His vision was already returning, a slowly sharpening blur to reveal that Jessica had put her fist through the floor of the boxing ring where he’d just been.

She’d shrugged off her jacket and scarf, now left in jeans and a black t-shirt. When she had found the time to do that, Peter had no idea.

Where Matt fought with a surprising amount of persistence, Jessica fought with a surprising amount of viciousness. She had no qualms about aiming for the soft spots, or using his hair as leverage.

Using his speed, he maneuvered to her back, arms finding purchase around her neck in a sloppy choke hold. She huffed in annoyance, reaching overhead and behind her back to grab hard at his armpits. Her height gave her the advantage here. One solid jerk of her arms and she threw him over & across the ring. One of the ropes snapped as he sailed into it. Jessica was strong enough to break his arm-bars and just skilled enough to know where to jab her elbow.

Raw strength didn’t protect her from injury, though. Peter landed his own hits, found her flesh just as giving as his own. He tried not to feel bad when he left a bruise on her face from a well landed punch. Tried and failed, “Sorry, lady.”

“Call me lady again and I’ll break the other arm.” She used the back of her hand to wipe a trail of blood off her lip. There was still a solid smear of red streaked across her face as Jessica smiled.

“Uh, is she alright, Mr. Murdock?” Ned’s voice again, slightly shaken.

“Yeah, Jones can take it. I’ve seen her go up against worse.”

Peter had to ignore the rest of the conversation, his focus settling solely on Jessica’s approaching form. Every instinct was telling him to run, to avoid the danger and attack from a distance. Matt had brought up time and time again that there would be some people that Peter would have to go through, that he couldn’t rely on avoidance if he intended on being the hero Queens would need.

He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant yet, but he knew that Jessica Jones was a test.

If he could get through her, then he would prove that he could be that hero.

In a rush, Peter went for her legs while Jessica planted her feet and waited. She knew some tactics, that was clear. Not like Matt and his knowledge of fighting styles and how he would read the muscles. No, Jessica knew self defense and how to throw a mean right hook. Peter went for a dive against her knees, with enough force tobreak through her center of gravity, and enough force to leave rivets in what remained of the boxing ring floor. They both went to the mat, scrambling for the upper hand.

She was strong enough to shove Peter into the air with a kick to the gut, but a firm wrist around her ankle kept him from going too high. He yanked her hard, attempting to pull her underneath him to go for a mount. A second rope around the ring snapped as she kept the distance between them. Another kick, this time to his right shoulder. Something gave way and his right hand relaxed from Jessica’s ankle, the muscles no longer obeying his command.

Desperate thoughts ran through his mind. He could strike her knee, possibly break it. But neither Matt nor Jessica had given him any indication that she had advanced healing. Could he risk leaving her permanently injured? Would he hesitate if this was a real fight?

Peter grit his teeth and rolled to his feet, his left hand settling on his right shoulder to feel the damage. So far he had the worst of the injuries. Bruised ribs, fractured arm, broken nose, and now a dislocated shoulder. Jessica was sporting some serious bruising on her face and Peter was sure there were many more across her torso and legs. From where he was standing he could see her muscles shaking in tiny quivers, a product of adrenaline.

She seemed content to give him a moment, heck she probably even needed one herself. Peter took the opportunity to work his shoulder back into it’s socket. The pain receded to a dull ache instead of that sharp tearing and Peter let out a small sigh in relief.

The world came back into focus and from behind him he could hear Matt and Ned again.

“I don’t understand. He’s so strong. I mean, you’ve seen the videos.”

“He’s young. Lacks experience. I may not be strong, but I’ve fought enhanced humans and come out on top. And Jessica has experience too. We both know that strength and speed aren’t everything. Look at how she doesn’t hold back. She’s not afraid to hurt him, isn’t playing a game to make the bad guy call uncle. She’s intending to hurt him until he stops fighting.”

“What does she know about Peter?”

“He’s stronger than her, faster too. I asked if she’d be willing to go a few rounds, no holding back. I can’t really give Peter the hands on experience she can, he’d snap my bones if he lost control. I can just teach him tactics and technique.”

Peter brought his hands back up as Jessica barked at the two spectators, “It’s no surprise the kid isn’t up to snuff. You yap during all your training sessions or is this a special occasion?” Despite her addressing Matt and Ned, her eyes never wavered from Peter’s.

“Alright, kid. Fight me like you mean it.”

He didn’t wait for her, just jumped forward in a high leap. Over her head, twisting in midair.

This is how Spiderman fights.

His palms slapped against her back, sticking instantly. With her as a light anchor, Peter could adjust his momentum. Jessica fought against the abnormal hold, twisting to try and grip Peter for another throw. Like she’d done before.

It wouldn’t be so easy this time. Peter moved with her before arching his back and jerking her into an unwilling summersault. She landed face down on the mat of the ring, with Peter still attached to her back.

He realized it was the first time he’d utilized his stickiness while in the ring. He’d spent these last couple of months training to be like Matt.

Peter almost laughed at the discovery. Mr. Stark had showed him tactics. Matt showed him technique. But there was no one who could show him how to be Spiderman. No one who could show him how to utilize every aspect of his power.

No… that had to come from facing an opponent who forced it out of him.

Like Jessica Jones, the uber strong woman who could break his bones and make him bleed.

She continued to struggle for a moment longer, trying to twist Peter off of her, trying to jab her elbow back into his side. Despite it all, he held tight, releasing the stickiness of one hand so he could get her into the rear mount position. Resticking on his own shoulder he was able to force her into an unbreakable choke hold.

And then she tapped twice and they both dropped like lead weights to the mat, hard breaths echoing in the gym around them, their own exhaustion finally apparent.

“How long?” Peter finally managed to ask.

“Six minutes. If that.”

Someone was shoving a bottle of water into his hand and Peter shifted so he could look up at that savior. Ned stared back down, eyes wide. “Dude. That was insane. She almost kicked your ass. You got blood everywhere.”

Peter took stock of himself. Ned wasn’t kidding. His broken nose, already healing, had bled all over the front of his shirt and on the mat of the ring. In turn it was smeared all over his pants.

“I’ve got some spares set aside. Can’t have your beautiful aunt thinking I’m bad for you.” The man might not be able to see it, but there was little doubt he knew Peter was glaring. Still, the gesture was kind enough for Peter to remember his manners.

“Thanks. She’d freak if she saw me now.”

At his side, Jessica was downing her own bottle of water. She was starting to recover a little, though no where near as fast as Peter. He noted that most of the bruising looked hours old already. When she caught him staring, she gave him a small amused smile. “Next time you should invite Luke to your little training session. We could do this battle royale style.”

Matt’s shoulder lifted in a brief shrug. “I called him early on. He didn’t feel comfortable with Peter’s age.”

“Should I be offended, Murdock?”

“Nope.”

Jessica jerked her head towards the other teenager in the room, turning her attention back to Peter, “Who’s the spectator?”

Peter finally jumped back into the conversation, “Oh, that’s Ned. He’s my best friend. He wanted to watch me train for his birthday.”

“That’s sweet,” she paused and frowned, “And weird.”

Beside Peter, Ned crossed his arms, “It’s not weird. I’m his man in the chair. Not to brag, but he’d probably be dead if it weren’t for me.” Without a doubt.

“Yeah, at least they learned early on to work with someone. How long did it take us?” It must have been rhetorical because Jessica didn’t respond other than a roll of her eyes.

When the bottles of water were empty, the two fighters made their way back to their feet and faced one another. In the same fashion as before, Jessica stuck her hand out. This time there was no test of strength as they shook hands.

“I’d ask for the backstory, but I really don’t give a shit. Also, it’s getting late and I’m not drunk enough to have a pow wow.”

Matt released a low chuckle, “There’s the Jones I know.” Then the two adults walked to the main door of the gym. Peter felt a rush of shame when he saw Jessica limping a little. It was short lived though when he recalled how she had so casually broken his nose and knocked his arm out of it’s socket.

Their voices trickled down to a whisper and Peter found himself shutting out the noise to give them privacy. He turned his attention to Ned.

“Sorry it was a short session.”

“Dude. That was awesome. Like, the most awesome thing I’ve seen this year.”

After a few minutes Matt finally returns to the ring, tapping once at the flooring before sighing heavily. “Maybe I should have told you to take it outside.”

The damage to the gym wasn’t as bad as it could have been, though it’d be a while before everything could be repaired. Peter felt a little guilty for just a moment before Matt said, “I’ll get Stark to fix it up tomorrow. I imagine he’ll be willing after he gets the-” Matt’s ‘gaze’ is leveled in Peter’s direction, “-videoI plan on sending him.”

Great. Now Peter had to do post training evaluation again.

He’d rather take on Jessica Jones again than have to do _homework_. Peter groaned at the thought and Matt just laughed. Ned shook his head, “What even is your life?”

Taking another look around the gym Peter could only shake his head. He had no freaking idea…


	9. Chapter 9

Tony didn’t want to be at the compound. Every corner he turned came with the risk of running into people he had no desire to see at the moment. If it wasn’t for the house arrest stipulations placed upon the Rogue Avengers, technically the Avengers again, then Tony wouldn’t be there at all. But he had agreed to do the monitoring program, had given his word that they wouldn’t step out of line.

Which meant he had to be there, had to make sure that Rogers, Romanoff, Wilson, and Barnes were under observation and reported weekly. Barton and Lang were allowed to be with their family at least, and would have to report to another DOD division.

That left Wanda…

Wanda was allowed to reside outside the compound, which Tony had insisted on. Until she had her power under control she would remain in the care of the New York Sorcerers. Let them deal with whatever nightmares she might cause.

It had only been a week since the four residents had settled in and so far Tony saw them at least once a day in some form-or-fashion.

He felt surrounded by enemies and it made his skin crawl, made his ever running mind even more tired than usual.

So when the Kid messaged him for the first time in weeks, Tony found himself clutching the phone and staring.

_“Are you alright, Mr. Stark?”_

When did it become Peter’s responsibility to check up on him? _Probably when you went radio silent?_ His mind snarked back. It didn’t matter that he was dealing with the Accords or was dealing with the Registration. It didn’t matter that his mother’s murderer slept in the same building.

He wasn’t sure what to say back, but he knew that he needed something just out of reach. Just on the other end of the line.

He needed an ally. A friend. And though it wasn’t fair to pull the kid back into a battle, Tony was feeling a little selfish. At least with the Accords Amendments completely finalized, Peter was no longer in danger if his super hero persona was discovered by the government.

 _“Yeah, Kid.”_ Then he was typing again before he could tell his brain to quell his impulsive nature. _“Want to spent a week upstate?”_

He could block the south wing, his personal wing of the building, from the others. It could just be him and Peter for a while, like old times, with just the lab and the suit and whatever they decided to blow up. He could shove aside his anxiety and build something amazing or simple or anything Peter wanted.

_“Heck yes. I gotta ask May and Matt first.”_

Tony’s eyebrow shot to his hairline, a hard frown pulling his mouth down. _“Why do you need permission from the blind boxer?!”_

_“We have a summer schedule to keep. It’d be rude to bail.”_

_“Do I need to invite him too? I’m not a fan, you know. He sent me a bill for repairs two weeks ago!”_

_“Sorry, Mr. Stark.”_ He could picture the kid looking sheepish, “ _And you should invite him. We train on Tuesdays and Fridays.”_

_“I’ll work it out. See you soon, Kid.”_

_“Can’t wait!”_ There were some mixed in emoji’s that Tony interpreted as the boy’s uncontainable excitement.

It was one of those impulse decisions that left Tony doing a lot of work in a short period of time. He called May and got her approval. He reluctantly called Murdock and set up a schedule for the week that Peter would visit. He had to order some extra chemicals for the labs, just in case Peter wanted to make some web changes. Then he laid out the groundwork to divide the compound as needed, adding a few extra rooms to his wing perimeter.

It would allow Peter more freedom without risking him crossing paths with the other Avengers.

Though that would be a choice that Peter would have to make on his own, just like if the kid ever decided to Register. They’d have to have that conversation again.

But Tony shoved that out of his mind for now, focused instead on the fun they were going to have. The fire suppression system was checked over and DUM-E was given a brand new extinguisher. The stage was set.

Time flew by and then suddenly came to a crawl the day that Peter was supposed to arrive at the compound. FRIDAY alerted him when Happy passed through the gate, giving Tony enough time to make sure the route was clear from the front doors to the south wing.

Tony attributed his smile to the fact that he’d had so much work lately and so little play. And Peter always tended to bring out a softer side of him.

He met them at the doors, leaned up against the jam as Happy unloaded a suitcase from the trunk. Peter jumped out of the car a moment later, almost ignoring Tony so he could get the suitcase from Happy. Because the kid was always polite and well mannered and wouldn’t dare let Happy carry his luggage. Tony tried not to be offended, instead diverting his focus to checking Peter over for any visible injury.

Just when he’d determined there were none, Peter turned to face him, practically tripping over his own feet and the suitcase as he raced towards door. The Kid’s smile was beaming, face flushed with youth and excitement. “Hey Mr. Stark!”

Peter slipped under Tony’s open arm, letting Tony guide him into the compound. Even if the Kid knew the way, Tony planned on being there in the exposed area just in case one of the others showed up. God forbid Rogers decided now was a good time to go jogging and stumbled upon Peter.

Tony wasn’t ready for that kind of unknown yet.

Not that Cap would hurt the Kid. No, he could possible do worse. He would use Peter’s hero worship to turn the boy against Tony in the long run, sew seeds of doubt and mistrust and make the boy question their relationship.

“-decided he would take his finals, even though he was exempt, just to be able to see me and MJ before the end of the year.” Tony narrowed back in on the conversation, just in time to catch the story about Ted.

Or Fred?

“You see them for the summer yet?”

“Yeah. I see Ned sometimes during patrols. He patched up a small burn I got last week.”

At least the Kid was actually seeing someone for assistance once in a while. Tony decided against pressing it, much more content to preen about the changes he’d made to the guest suite they were about to enter.

And preen away he did.

Peter stepped in, letting out an excited squeal as he saw the Star Wars posters, lego sets, and new queen loft bed. It’d been made into a teenage boys’ dream, or at least one with a love for the periodic table and sci-fi. Somewhere safe for him when things got rough.

Somewhere with family just down the hall.

Tony leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Peter take it all in.

“It’s…. it’s… it’s awesome! Thank you! Thank you!” And Peter gave him a tight hug and Tony couldn’t help but pat the kid on the back and swallow down any potential emotions. _Lock it down, Stark. Real tight._

“Glad you like it.”

“I love it!”

“So, what did you want to do first?” At Tony’s question, Peter’s stomach responded with a loud growl. Tony let a small grin slip. “Lunch then?”

“Yeah.”

Despite the fact that the suite has a kitchen, they both made their wayto the larger communal room down the hall. Tony made sure that it’s always well stocked, even going out of his way this week to get some items that Peter always goes for. Gatorade. Energy bars. And cereal with too much sugar. High calorie choices that fit into his dietary needs.

They bypass the pantry and went straight for the fridge.

Tony was already pulling out some containers of Pad Thai, shoving them in Peter’s direction so he could get started on heating them up.

Except the kid is a heathen and he already had a fork shoved into one of the take-out boxes. He started eating it cold. Tony made a gagging face, “Gross.”

It’s domestic and a little different than how Tony usually spends his lunch. Peter forgoes the table and sat on the counter top, legs swinging and looking more than a kid than the young man that Tony knows him to be. He wondered if this is how parents sometimes feel, watching their kids be carefree and smiling and never wanting the outside world to tarnish that while knowing there is absolutely no way to stop it.

 _Lock it down. Real Tight._ Tony reminded himself. He hadn’t brought Peter here so he could get all existential. He brought Peter here so they could build shit and blow up things. Maybe make another element if the mood struck them.

Which is how they ended up in the lab after eating, both of them crouched behind the safety wall of the explosives test site. They’re watching from behind a wall of thick ballistics glass, enough to take the force of a hulk punch, or five based on previous records. It’s enough to withstand the peroxide mix that Peter had put together and strapped to their target.

The Captain America Shield.

Tony would be lying if he said the damn thing didn’t have a permanent residence in the explosives room.

“What did you use for decomposition?” Tony asked as he made notes on the homemade bomb, calculating the percentage of the peroxide and the expected blast radius from the reaction that would soon occur. Peter had chosen to go with a pipebomb-like system. Glass inside a metal container. Right now Peter was holding the detonator that would shatter the glass and mix the unknown decomposition agent with the peroxide.

“Potassium.” Ah. An alkali metal. It would set off those oxygen molecules for sure…

Personally, Tony would have went withLithium or Sodium, but really it didn’t matter at the end of the day. All that was needed was that sudden, visceral separation.

Tony scribbled some more, noting the agent and the time. Couldn’t have real science without trails and a paper trail, right? Then he double checked that Peter had his earplugs in and was wearing sunglasses. When he felt that Peter was adequately prepared for science, Tony gave him a thumbs up.

“Whenever you’re ready, Underroos.”

Peter pressed the detonator and the fireworks that followed shook the floor.

Tony couldn’t help but grab onto Peter’s shoulder, hand tightening on the Kid’s sleeve in case everything went sideways. The percussive boom was loud, but at least dulled enough by the blast dampeners that they wouldn’t be left with tinitus, even with the earplugs.

The flames released by the reaction were orange at first and then a bright white as they rose in the explosives room. Bright enough and beautiful enough to make a grown man cry.

Damn, the Kid knew how to build a bomb.

And damn, the shield was still in one piece.

Something was shaking still and it took Tony a moment to register that it was Peter pulling on his arm and shout-rambling. He popped out his earbuds, only to wince at the strength of Peter’s excited yell. “That was awesome. Can we put in on youtube?! Oh man, Ned is gonna freak. Did you feel it? I mean it wasn’t hot, but the pressure was intense, even from the vacuum. Think we can do it outside?! Oh man, we should try a high-nitrogen one. Though that’s more concussive so we’ll probably have to strengthen the walls. Or use the bomb range. Can we use the outdoor bomb range?”

They ended up outside. They also ended up with another spectator. After Peter had gotten over his excitement from meeting War Machine in person, he then rushed to tell Rhodey in full detail how they planned to make a crater in the bomb range. Which if there was something that War Machine excelled at, it was making big craters. Peter fawned some more as he watched the War Machine armor get to work, launching some of it’s ‘small but mighty’ armaments. Tony threw in a few launches from the Iron Man armor as well, unwilling to let Rhodey get all the Kid’s praise.

Peter decided against designing a high-nitrogen bomb. Tony was grateful for the opportunity to give his ears and eyes a reprieve. He’d forgotten how physically irritating giving a weapons demonstration could be. A small part of him hoped that they would stick to engineering for the rest of the week. Or coding…. Coding didn’t hurt anyone.

If you ignored Ultron. And Computer Zola.

Better yet, Tony decided they should just stick to the Spiderman suit upgrades.

The sun was already beginning to set by the time they made their way back inside the compound. The change in daylight alerted Tony that it was time to eat something, or at least feed Peter… and Rhodey since he’d so graciously stopped by to visit.

Tony sent his honeybear to the rehab room to wait while he and Peter scrounged something up.

Returning to the room where they had eaten lunch, Tony repeated the process of pulling out prepared take-out containers. Sure, he could get someone to deliver something fresher, but the compound wasn’t exactly in a thriving metropolitan area anymore, so a fast delivery wasn’t going to happen no matter how much money he threw at it.

It meant he spent more time in the kitchen than he ever did at the tower.

It made him easy to find. Easy to access.

By Romanoff. Who wasn’t supposed to be in this part of the compound, but was anyway because spies don’t really care about the rules. His eyes landed on her as she stood in the doorway. She looked non-threatening in her grey sweats. But Tony knew better.

Without thinking twice, Tony found himself stepping in front of Peter, whose back was to situation as the Kid dug around in the fridge. _Oblivious_. _Good._ It was ridiculous to think that he could actually protect Peter physically, but that didn’t stop him from straightening up and rolling his shoulders back, as if preparing for a fight.

Maybe the response was enough though, because Natasha just took a step back out of the doorway and walked out of sight. It left Tony with a hammering heart and eyes that were a little too wide.

“You alright, Mr. Stark?”

He turned back to Peter who was now holding a new container of Pad Thai and staring at Tony with no small amount of concern. When Tony didn’t immediately reply, Peter reached a free hand out and placed it directly on Tony’s chest. “Your heart is beating pretty fast. Need me to get Colonel Rhodes?”

Another beat passed as Tony tried to think of something witty or clever, or at least something that didn’t tell Peter that he was scared to death that the Rogue Avengers, now just the Avengers, would ruin everything.

“I just realized that the color scheme of this kitchen is hideous and it’s gonna cost a fortune to change.”

“Uh, I don’t want to make any assumptions or anything, but I’m pretty sure you can afford it, Mr. Stark.” The concern in the Kid’s eyes faded, hand dropping back by his side.

It was like nothing had happened.

It was like everything had happened.

Tony cursed himself for bringing Peter into this situation. He wondered if he could have ignored that text and lived with himself though. May had been clear about what Peter needed, about his training. About how Tony was supposed to be worthy of Peter’s admiration. About how he could make himself worthy. He recalled their conversation after the impalement incident and the way May had sized him up and announced, _“He needs training. But he also needs something more. Peter needs a father. He needs someone to turn to when he’s worried about me, when he feels that I won’t understand what he’s going through. He needs a support system that only two parents can provide. It’s a lot to ask, but he’s worth it. So we have to be worth it for him too.”_

Did fathers let their sons handle highly volatile explosives? His own had, though Tony would never dare model himself after the greatly flawed Howard Stark. Did fathers monitor their son’s vitals when they patrolled as vigilantes? Did fathers lie about their fears, just so their sons wouldn’t share them?

Tony wondered if he’s doing anything right by the Kid. If the push and pull he’d been through lately was damaging the teen. _You’re making up time now._ It was what he told himself as he sat down with Peter and Rhodey, passing out utensils and plates and laughing as Peter dug into another cold container. He laughed as Rhodey got fed up with Peter constantly calling him _Colonel Rhodes, Sir, Mr. War Machine._

Tony grabbed onto the moment, tucked it away where the others couldn’t touch it.

This week they would have training days and fun days and do things that Tony had always thought he might do if he ever had a kid. Yeah, Tony thought it would all be just fine.

Then Peter put a pin in all the thoughts Tony was having by stating, “So, I think I’m ready to Register.”


	10. Chapter 10

“So, I think I’m ready to Register.” Tony stilled, fork halfway up to his face and loaded with spaghetti. The air rushed out of his lungs in a huff. Slowly, trying to muster as much patience and restraint as possible, Tony set the fork on the plate. This hadn’t been a subject he wanted to get into with Peter until he was in college at least. Maybe later? Maybe never?

“Kid,” he sighed, “Can’t we just worry about the lab? Or what movie we’re gonna watch this week? I’ll even take talking about Murdock for a while.” Yeah, Murdock would be a better topic. Murdock was a ray of sunshine compared to this… this landmine filled discussion.

God, he hated emotions.

A second set of utensils scraped against a plate and Tony glanced up at Rhodes. The man’s expression was stern, darkened by narrowed eyes. Tony had seen that look plenty, usually just before Rhodey implied he was being an asshole or stupid. Or both.

Rhodey took a deep breath and demanded, “Did Tony tell you to do this?”

The kid looked between them both, hands up in defense of Tony, not that he needed Peter to come to his rescue. He could shoot a mean glare as good as anyone else. And was currently staring daggers at the colonel. How dare he. Tony ignored the voice that reminded him that it was he who had told Peter about the registry in the first place.

“No!” Peter exclaimed. Then calmer, “No. I’ve been thinking about it for a while. Pretty much since we talked about it a few months ago.” That was a while ago. Had it been that long since Peter had begun training?

“Glad to hear it wasn’t spur of the moment,” Tony muttered as he leaned back in his chair to cross his arms. Across the way, Rhodey was also relaxing, head tilted as he looked Peter over. For once, Tony wasn’t quite sure what he friend was thinking. When Tony returned to glance at Peter, he could see that he boy was waiting for something. Some kind of approval.

“Alright,” the word felt heavy in his mouth, an approval that he felt reluctant to give. But if he didn’t then there would be an argument. It would show he didn’t trust Peter. And that was one thing he didn’t want the kid to ever question. “We can do it this week.”

A trial run, Tony thought. Peter would be his first sponsored registration.

The Kid and Rhodey both watched Tony as he tugged off his watch, laying the band flat on the table. A wave of his hand brought up a hologram. It was the intro packet to registration.

While Peter scanned over the content, Tony talked, “Alright, Kid. After we do the blood draw I’ll link you up with HAWKS, it’s the AI I created to walk people through the registration process. I’m able to access HAWKS, but can’t access any of the data. I can access my own record and do edits, but I can’t ever delete it. The only group that can do a full redaction is the elected council for the Accords. So, keep in mind that when you’re profile is up, I can’t help fix it.”

HAWKS was mentioned in the opening info for the registration process. Hero Assistant Who Keeps Secrets. Tony felt that familiar touch of amusement of the AI’s name.

Tony recapped the security protocols he had designed to keep the information safe. The first being that the physical location of the data was in space, in a large Stark Industries satellite. Hard to break into that. Though also hard to replace any failed hardware. The redundancies he’d set into place were enough to keep the system going at least ten years without hands on maintenance. By then there would be a robot established just to do hard drive swaps.

Every piece of it was transparent, save the actual code that protected everyone’s information. Even Peter could submit a request to the UN just to look at the Hero Registration portion of the Accords.

There were multiple locations across the country where someone like Peter could register. They all needed to be screen first though or vouched for by a hero that was already in the system. Tony made it clear that he would be vouching for Peter, or Spiderman since Peter had no intention of putting his true identity in the registry.

HAWKS would, by Tony’s design, help make sure that any hero who wanted to register could do so without sacrificing their private life. Peter could still protect his identity. He could protect Aunt May.

After Tony felt like Peter was through most of the information, he prodded for more from the Kid, “What does Murdock think about this?”

Peter turned away from the hologram, eyes landing on Tony’s as he gave a shrug. “He thinks I’m too young. He thinks it’ll be used to hunt down people like us.” Us. Enhanced. Mutants. Super Soldiers. Anything different.

Tony felt his jaw clench. It had been a major concern at the very beginning. But with the information open and accessible it meant that the public could police it. More eyes meant there wasn’t blind spots. He knew, deep down, that he’d had Peter at the forefront of his mind when he installed all the safety measures. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen, Kid.”

No way in hell would someone get their hands on the Kid because of him…

“Tony’s right.” Rhodey finally spoke up from his position at the end of the table. “If the registry is abused in any way then the entire bill becomes null. Which means the Avengers could go after anyone ”

Tony would be first in line to deliver justice.

He took back his watch then, let Peter know that he’d have all the info available on Peter’s phone by the end of the night.

Then Tony excused himself, making sure to give Peter a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he let him know he’d meet the kid in the lab the next morning.

Tony checked his watch on the walk to his office, noting that it was still pretty early. Not too late for him to make a private phone call.

“Friday, connect me with the boxer, please.”

———————————————

Peter rested in his room at the compound, thumbing through the info on his phone. A part of him worried that he was rushing into this, wasn’t taking the time to just be a kid like Matt had suggested.

Another part of him held tightly to a single belief.

Mr. Stark was scared of something. Scared of something enough to create the registry. Scared enough to try and build a suit for Peter that could be used in almost any dangerous situation. Scared enough to face Steve Rogers and James Barnes.

And what if that something came while Peter was too busying taking the time to be a kid.

He thought of his strength, his speed, his healing. How many of the avengers didn’t have that? Peter could help them in a fight. But only if he registered. They wouldn’t call him otherwise. He’d be in queens, sitting on his hands or saving some cat from a tree instead of fighting the real battle that was coming.

That night he dreamed of standing beside Iron Man as they stood in a grassy field. The air was dense, high humidity. Maybe they were close to a jungle? Lighting danced behind them. An army of warriors shouted. It was a familiar and recent dream, one that caused a swell of fear in his gut. The Chitauri tore through some kind of force field, both ground soldiers and the flying leviathans.

Peter remembered seeing them as a child.

This was usually the part where they stood alone when the aliens came. This was the part where they died fighting.

 _“We’re broken, Kid.”_ The man sounded defeated, pain in his voice as he slowly moved his armor forward.

Peter walked with him, steady and certain, _“They’ll come, Mr. Stark.”_

For once the dream continued. A figure appeared at Peter’s side, in red and blue as he carried a shield. Captain America.

_“We’re going to win. Whatever it takes.”_

Peter wondered if the dream was a build up of his fears, or of Tony’s.

When he woke, he thought of the dream and it’s alternate ending. Did it change because he had decided to register? Or maybe it was because of the fact that the fractured Avengers were on their way to being made whole?

He continued to think about it as he sat in the medical wing, letting Mr. Stark draw a blood sample for the database.

“-alright, Kid?” Finger snapped in front of his face and Peter squinted to look up at Mr. Stark, who was staring down at him, concern etched into his expression. “I said, you alright?

“Yeah… Yes. I’m good Mr. Stark.”

“O-kay. I just asked since I said we can head out once HAWKS analyzes the sample and you just stared straight ahead like a loon.”

He hadn’t heard any of that…

Sheepishly, Peter nodded his head, “Sorry. Yeah. Sounds good. How long will it take?”

“About five hours.” Tony pulled out the needle and moved Peter’s hand to his inner elbow to hold a cotton ball against the already healing hole. As he set the tube of blood into a specialized port on a complicated looking machine, Mr. Stark asked over his shoulder, “Wanna tell me what’s on your mind?”

Peter briefly considered telling the man his fears. But that meant that Mr. Stark would have to talk about his own fears too. It felt too early. It felt like it wasn’t any of Peter’s business really. They were entitled to their own insecurities without having to air them out, right? Would his mentor think less of him?

Peter felt like a child again, uncertain.He felt unprepared for that unforeseen danger, like his training would never be enough. Would he die?

He jumped at the sudden touch of a hand on his shoulder, wide brown eyes looking up to meet narrowed brown ones.

“Peter?” The hand on his shoulder tightened. Tony spoke again, “You don’t have to do this, Peter.”An out. Mr. Stark thought he was worried about the registration.

“No. I have to.”

“You don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders, Kid.”

“Neither do you, Mr. Stark.”

And that was the entirety of it. Peter wouldn’t allow Tony to do it all himself. Yes, he was scared. He was nervous. This was bigger than him. It was bigger than them both. There was nothing petty about the criminals they would be facing one day. They might die. But they would die fighting together. If it came down to it they would die doing what was right.

The next few hours were spent waiting in the lab. They distracted one another by modifying Peter’s suit more. Peter also made a few adaptations to one of the newest Iron Man Marks.

The machine in the medical wing finished it’s analyzing and the two of them went back to retrieve a data card that had been produced. Mr. Stark explained how it would be destroyed as soon as Peter fed it to HAWKS.

Then Mr. Stark drove him to another building at the compound, one that looked and smelled brand new.

Peter entered alone, finding himself in a large room that had a comfortable spinning desk chair. There was a small slot in one of the arms, one the exact size of the data card. Peter fed the card into the slot as he took a seat.

There were a few lights that began blinking before a holographic keyboard and screen appeared. A headshot of himself appeared on the screen and data began to populate once empty fields.

 _“Good Afternoon, Mr. Parker.”_ A voice sounded from speakers above him, “ _I am HAWKS.”_

“Hello Hawks. So, how do we do this?”

_“We are going to establish what criteria you wish to have made available on your Hero Profile.”_

Peter scanned the partially filled in ‘profile’. There were spaces for data concerning his general info, like address and phone number. He filled in those areas, but marked them as private.

The record, as it would appear to the UN, had a listing of Peter’s general skills as Spiderman. They’d need to know things like enhanced strength and healing. They didn’t need to know his IQ…

_“Would you like me to call you Mr. Parker or Spiderman?”_

“Actually, Peter is fine.”

 _“Very well, Peter. You can also include a photo of your uniform. I can remote access the internet in order to assist in population of the profile.”_ Several pictures of Spiderman appeared beside the screen, all indicating some use of his powers. Peter settled on a candid shot that had been taken while he was swinging through New York while also carrying a fireman. It showed strength, agility, and the use of his webs.

“Hawks, what do you think they need to know about a hero?”

_“A method of communication is recommended.”_

Peter contemplated that, “I guess using Mr. Stark wouldn’t always work. Like if he’s busy.”

_“I have a system to order a paging device if that is something you would be interested in. It would be linked to the Accords Council.”_

“That sounds like it could work.”

_“Might I also recommend you include your ability of adhering to surfaces?”_

“Yeah, that might come in handy. For a mission or something.”

Peter scanned through some of the other registration data, filling in what he could. He could almost see how the search function on the other side would work, how the council could narrow down the individuals who would be needed in a disaster. There was also a section on his profile where he could see who has accessed his information.

So far only his own name was listed.

“So we have most of the Spiderman stuff in here. Biographical is looking slim though.”

Peter skimmed through to locate his medical history page. Some of it was already filled in, courtesy of the blood work that HAWKS had analyzed. Other pieces were still blank.

Mother. Peter typed in Mary Parker and hit enter.

Father. Peter typed in Richard Parker and hit enter.

 _“Data rejected. Does not match established input.”_ It was HAWKS’ voice, but the tone didn’t quite match. It felt more sterile. _“Apologies, Peter, my automatic system detected an anomaly in your profile.”_

Peter stilled, “What does that mean.”

_“I’m afraid I cannot give information from the database. We can only write data to it.”_

HAWKS’ answer didn’t make any sense. Peter attempted to type it again. Richard Parker. _“Data rejected. Does not match established input.”_

Peter’s finger flexed, the desire to look at the code simmering as he tried to puzzle out what HAWKS meant. But even Tony couldn’t break into the database. It had been designed that way, for every hero’s protection.

“Are you saying that there is already data in there? For this?”

_“Yes, it appears that there is already data written to that form. I am unable to overwrite.”_

“I’m supposed to have complete control over the profile. So why can I not see it?” Peter stood form the chair, a thrum of anxious energy running through him. He turned back to the screens, flipping through the profile for any hint of an answer. His biographical data was finished, Spiderman’s data was finished. But a blank spot remained next to the word Father.

_“In order to protect the database I am not allowed to see pre-written data.”_

“Yeah, okay.” Loophole. Peter clapped his hands together as another idea hit him, “Can you see when the data was written?”

_“I’m afraid I cannot disclose timing of data population as that would compromise security.”_

“Right. Of course.” Peter had a suspicion that it was when he’d provided his blood analysis, but without a confirmation from HAWKS there was no guarantee.

Still, it was the best guess.

“Alright, Where can you pull data from?”

 _“I have access to the Federal DNA database and limited access to the United Nations criminal records, and I am able to use open source information from the internet.”_ Another screen appeared, various sources listed. Peter briefly scanned over them, noting how several of the government approved ones were connected to prisons.

“Are you saying that my dad could have been a criminal?!”

Peter stepped away from the holographic screens, the full weight of what this meant now hitting him.

Richard Parker wasn’t his father.

Aunt May wasn’t his aunt.

“Oh my god.”

_“I apologize for not being able to offer further assistance on this matter. Would you like to continue with your registration?”_

“Yeah… Uh, maybe.” Peter moved back towards the profile, eyes still locked onto that empty space beside FATHER. There were secrets there. If Richard had been his father then the system wouldn’t have rejected the data, it would have simply accepted it. He’d have to talk to May. He needed more information.

And that information could impact whatever else he could put down in his registration.“Can I… can I stop where I’m at?”

_“I will not upload the profile until you are ready, Peter.”_

“Thanks.”

There were so many unknowns now. He’d thought he was certain about who he was, where he came from. But the contradiction was staring him in the face. Who could he ask? Would May even know. Did Uncle Ben know? Was this one of those weird secrets that guardians kept until the kid turned 18 or something?

Peter quickly shut down all the holographic screens, following HAWKS guidance on how to keep the record saved for now.

“What even is my life?”

Ned was gonna freak….


	11. Chapter 11

_“What even is your life?”_ Ned’s voice on the other end of the line was a welcome comfort. Peter was glad there was at least one constant in his life. Looking around his unfamiliar room in the compound he was suddenly overwhelmed by the need for his friend.

“I don’t know. There has to be something somewhere that tells me where I came from.”

“ _What did your aunt say?”_

“I didn’t really tell her all of it. Just that I wanted to know more about my parents. She’s pulling out some boxes from storage for us to go through when I get home.” That had been an interesting conversation. May didn’t buy Peter’s sudden interest in his parents as just general teen curiosity, but she hadn’t prodded much either. That was sure to come after he got back.

Ned interrupted Peter’s pacing with the question, _“Are you going to tell Mr. Stark?”_

“I don’t know. I don’t want to distract him right now, ya know? He’s got the rogues here… he’s stressing about it. I don’t want to add to that. And I’m pretty sure he freaked out about me registering.”

_“I guess… but if we don’t get anywhere we should consider him an option. I mean, He’s Tony Stark. The guy’s got resources.”_

“Hey, I’m Spiderman.” It had to count for something. “I think I can give it a shot on my own first.”

_“What are you going to do for the rest of the week, then?”_

“Blow up more stuff. Make a new web formula. We’re also working on a new Nanotech containment unit.” He heard Ned give a sigh on the other end of the line, that sort of soft huff of envy. Next time Peter would see if he could come too.

 _“You think you’ll run into the others? Like Black Widow? God, she’s so amazing and her-“_ As amazing as the woman probably was, Peter didn’t want to go down that road right now.

“No. I don’t think so. Mr. Stark locked down the area of the compound we’re in.”

_“Keep me updated then. I guess I’ll come by to help you go through your parents stuff. See if we can get any clues?”_

“Sounds like a plan. See you then!”

_“Bye. Oh, if you do see the black window, please please please take a picture!”_

Peter laughed, “Okay.”

There was something calming and grounding about reaching out to Ned. He was one of the few people who truly seemed to understand why he’d chosen to register. He was one of the few who accepted Peter’s word without question. And he would be there as Peter tried to find the answers to this new question.

Who was his father?

Peter tossed the phone onto the bed of the guest room, feet finding their way up the wall as he paced. Hanging upside-down seemed to help steady him. Or maybe it was the disruption of blood flow that allowed him clarity.

The question existed, but it didn’t change anything. Peter would always be the nephew of May and Ben Parker. They raised him, loved him, took him into their home. He would always be Spiderman. That didn’t mean he wasn’t curious. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t find the answers.

A beep sounded at his door, jarring Peter from his thoughts and sliding open to reveal Tony.

“That can’t be good for you, Kid.” Smiling, the man waved a hand towards Peter’s upside-down position. Rather than argue, Peter dropped down to the floor with a fancy flip. “Nice.”

Giving Tony a quick once over, Peter could tell the man wasn’t planning on working in the lab any time soon. He was wearing slacks and a button up white shirt, a jacket the only thing missing to his suit. Peter could hear the hum of the nanotech unit on Mr. Stark’s chest. Wherever he planned on going, he was prepared for trouble.

“So, I just stopped by to let you know I’m heading out for a few hours. I should be back by dinner.”

Joking, Peter asked, “Need me to hold down the fort?”

“Nah,” Tony gave a dismissive wave, “FRIDAY can manage. You’re free to do some lab work, but stay away from the explosives.” And the non-programmed Nanobots. And the unstable repulser units. FRIDAY kept a running list of things Peter cannot touch while unsupervised. “So don’t do anything-“

“You wouldn’t do,” interrupted Peter, “Or would do. Thin grey area.”

“Smartass,” Tony muttered with a smile as he backed out of the room.

And then Peter was alone in the compound.

Well, not entirely alone. There were some government agents who worked on site and a whole medical division. Manufacturing was back up so a small team was developing armor and accessories for the Avengers. Most of the people in the compound were in different wings of the building and Peter didn’t plan on interrupting their work.

Another side of the compound housed the Avengers. The Rogues. Peter had picked up talk here and there about who the current residents were. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes, and Sam Wilson.

Peter had been with Tony for a few days now and hadn’t seen or heard from any of them. From what he’d gathered from gossip they were on house arrest or some kind of parole. It made sense considering how many laws they had broken…

For a while Peter was content to wander aimlessly around the facility. He’d already seen the gym, had even done of some of his agility and strength tests there.

“Hey Friday?”

_“Yes, Mr. Parker?”_

“What’s something I haven’t done here?”

 _“There’s too many activities to name.”_ Such sass. _“Would you rather me provide a short list of recommendations?”_

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

_“You can drive the all terrain vehicle that Boss keeps in the hangar. Or there is the gun range. You could also screen a new movie in the lounge.”_

“You had me at all terrain vehicle. Lead the way Fri!”

A series of lights led Peter to the massive hangar. Along the way he ran into a group of SHIELD agents. A handful of them looked his way, but seemed to accept his presence when FRIDAY opened doors for him and announced his visitor level.

When he arrived at the open hangar bay it was deserted. There were several different vehicles. Some motorcycles and cars. Two armored track vehicles sat in the back. Then there was the ATV.

It was a suped-up version of a four wheeler, with a gun mount and armor along the front to protect the rider’s lower body. The paint was a plain matte black, no muss and no fuss. Peter searched for a keyhole, but found none.

_“You can utilize your cell phone as a remote key, Mr. Parker.”_

“Thanks.” Peter mounted the seat, feet finding some pedals. “Oh man, I’ve never driven anything besides a car before. And that wasn’t, uh, the best driving.” He recalled crashing Flash’s dad’s car and winced at the memory. “You sure Mr. Stark would be alright with this?”

_“It is not on the Peter no-no list. Besides, I believe humans learn to drive at your age, isn’t that right?:_

“Yeah! Totally.”

It took a while for him to figure out what all the buttons were for, a few trial and errors as he turned on lights and a siren, which _ow_ …

Then Peter pressed the ignition switch. The machine roared and shot forward, courtesy of Peter having pressed in the pedal enough to send him into a higher gear.

“Oh shit…” Peter swore and swerved, the ATV finding the perfect route to exit the hangar and end up on the pavement. Fist clenched around the handlebars, Peter pressed the throttle with his thumb while working the pedal with his foot. Pressing down put him in a higher gear. Pulling up dropped him down. Easy, right?

A display between the handlebars showed him the gear and speed.

“I wonder how fast this thing can go?”

He pushed the throttle again, reaching a solid 30mph.

Rolling to a stop, Peter eyed the property. There was plenty of pavement, but around the hangar it looped in an oval. Then there was the straight trail that led towards the main roads away from the compound.

But it was an all terrain vehicle, meant to go on more than just pavement.

Peter looked to the grassy hills near the tree-line. They weren’t steep, but Peter suspected if he was going fast enough then the vehicle could get _some_ air. What was the point without some acrobatics? And if anything could take his mind off of the mystery father question, it was pushing the ATV to 50mph and getting three feet of air on the first decent hill.

The vehicle jerked as he landed, tugging hard once the rear wheels gained traction again. He felt a pang of guilt at the marks left in the grass, but kept moving forward towards the next rise of the ground.

The trees weren’t too far off now.

His senses helped him navigate the change in landscape, a slight buzzing in the back of his head as he twisted the arms of the ATV, redirecting it to run parallel to the woods. Peter tentatively shifted his feet to the seat of the four wheeler, preparing to do a quick flip. He wondered how much strength he would need to use in order to maintain his own speed against that of the ATV’s.

With a firm push of his thumb, Peter set the throttle on full and leapt into the air. He let his body guide him, twisting into an elongated flip before diving back down towards the four wheeler.

Palms struck the handle bars, and Peter activated his adhesion, using his strength to pull his body back into position on the ATV. He shouted in surprise at the success, giving himself a quick fist pump.

A few sharp bangs a hundred feet away have Peter instantly still in his seat. There is no buzz or tingle, but he knows gunshots when he hears them.

Shifting the ATV around, Peter starts driving in the direction of the noise. On the way he recalls that FRIDAY had mentioned the gun range. He’d only thought there was an indoor one, but it makes sense that the Avengers compound would also have an outdoor range as well.

The ATV wasn’t very loud, but it must have made enough noise to trigger the shooter to cease fire. Peter found them around a curve of the tree-line, facing a mound of dirt in the distance. A berm barrier, as Tony had once called it.

The pressure of his thumb let up against the throttle, the ATV rolling to a stop.

Peter wondered if he should turn around now and go back to the compound. But now that the person was looking his way he figured that would be rude. So he climbed off the ATV and approached. Slowly.

The woman holding the rifle was beautiful and deadly, her sharp gaze narrowed as she faced him. He instantly recognized her, palms sweating with nervousness. It was in his voice too as he gave her a nod, “Miss Romanoff.”

“Mr. Parker.” At the returned greeting, Peter couldn’t help but stiffen a little. How did she know his name?

As if reading his mind, Natasha smiled gently, “Relax.” Hard to do when she was occupied with breaking down a rifle. “I have access to the visitor roster. Tony having a guest is sort of unusual.”

“Oh.”

“So, what brings you to the range, Mr. Parker?”

“Peter.” The correction was automatic.

“Okay then, Peter.”

“I was just…” Peter trailed off, hand waving weakly towards the direction of the ATV.

“Ah, joy riding on a government compound?” Another one of those gentle smiles.

“Uh… yes… yes Ma’am.”

“Natasha is fine, Peter.” She stepped around him, locating a box on the ground. Slipping the rifle into the case, Natasha sent a sideways glance up towards Peter. “So, how long have you known Tony?”

As close to truth as Peter could get was always the best lie, “I started interning for him last year.”

Snapping the case close, Natasha made her way to the ATV, stating over her shoulder, “I didn’t think he took on interns.”

This time Peter kept his mouth shut, choosing instead to shrug a shoulder.

She accepted the silence then climbed onto the ATV, flicking her hand to the space in front of her. “Care to give me a ride back, Peter?”

“Uh… s- sure.” Oh god. This was awkward. Natasha busied herself with snapping in the rifle case on the back while Peter climbed in front of her.

He jumped when he felt her hands land on his shoulders, grip firm as he started up the vehicle. Beside his ear he heard her ask, “How many times have you taken out the Spider?”

“What?!” Peter jerked the handlebars, veering them slightly off course in his sudden shock.

Natasha just patted the side of the seat, “The Spider. It’s the name of the four wheeler.”

A sigh of relief left him in a rush, “Oh, uh, this is my first time.”

From there they rode to a smaller nearby building, the armory. Natasha engaged in light conversation, made him feel easy and comfortable. He was certain that she was well trained in making people feel whatever she wanted them to. Small favors that she set him at ease…

Peter put the ATV in front of the building’s door and followed Natasha as she made her way inside. She moved like a dancer, every step light and sure. It reminded him of… well… himself. Her eyes were sharp, glancing back at him to try and catch the smallest of expressions. A part of him was in utter awe. Another was entirely terrified. And a tiny portion remained that helped him keep calm and put one foot in front of the other.

“Has Tony showed you the armory?” Natasha asked as she started flipping on the lights.

He hadn’t. Most of the weapons they had worked on were already in the lab. But Natasha didn’t need to know that he was working on weapons with Tony. “No.” Peter had a feeling that the single answer told her more than he should have.

The case she had been carrying found a space between four other identical ones. Underneath was the name _Barton._ “He doesn’t like anyone else shooting his guns, but he’d be even more pissed if they never got used at all.”

“These are all Hawkeye’s?” The answer was unnecessary, but Natasha nodded anyway. As Peter looked around more he could see there were also cases marked as Bows and others marked as Arrows. Some were indicated as explosive and some just listed the shaft information. After a moment, Peter murmured, “This is the Avenger’s armory.”

Natasha smiled, this one more amused than gentle. “It was.”

“Why…uh… why’d you bring me here?”

“You’re close to Tony.” A small shrug. “I have a feeling that one day you’ll be close to the rest of us too. Might as well take the moment to make conversation. Get to know one another.”

“I don’t think Mr. Stark would like that right now.”

The Widow released a soft hum of thought. “Probably not.”

“Do you know where he went today?”

“Check-in with Wanda.” An honest answer. Peter mulled that over, taking advantage of the break in conversation to look further into the large room. Some of the areas weren’t labeled, but the cases and displayed weapons made it obvious. Like Captain’s shield and suit. There was also a few backpack sized items hanging on the wall. One was expanded to show the Falcon’s wings. It was partially damaged. There were notes scribbled on it in sharpie. Peter recognized Tony’s handwriting and smiled.

Another section had more rifles. Those boxes were pristine, unlike Hawkeye’s cases. It was clear that they hadn’t seen a fight yet. Peter glanced at Natasha, “Who are these for?”

“The Winter Soldier.” Peter stilled, eyes opening in alarm. “Barnes is a super soldier. He’s also an excellent marksman. Looks like Tony was prepared to set him up as a teammate.”

“He doesn’t talk about that much,” his voice dropped to a soft whisper. “The team I mean. The Avengers.”

Another hum left her. “I imagine Tony is still angry. He has every right to be after what happened.”

Suddenly finding his mouth dry, Peter struggled to ask, “And what happened?”

“A friend kept the truth from him.” Natasha kept an even gaze on Peter, one of those long stares that made him uncomfortable. “I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

At that they left the armory and headed back to the hangar together. Before parting ways Natasha insisted that he have her number.

Peter wasn’t sure why, but he kept that bit of information to himself when Tony finally returned…


	12. Chapter 12

The rest of the week with Tony went well. Peter didn’t have any more run-ins with the rogues and he managed to keep his worries under wraps. There were times when he felt guilty about keeping the information to himself, but then he’d catch sight of Tony and see the stress lines on the man’s forehead and the bags under his eyes. The last thing that Mr. Stark needed was more trouble or worries.

Especially when Peter wasn’t sure if there was anything to be worried about.

Tony dropped him off personally back in Queens, even staying an extra hour so they could have dinner together with Aunt May.

“So what did you two do?” She asked between bites.

“Blew up some stuff.”

“Blew up some stuff.”

“Wow. Glad you came back in one piece. Both of you…”

Peter tried to follow the conversation, but his mind kept drifting to the boxes that were waiting at the apartment. May had told him there were two she’d pulled out. Two boxes. All that was left of his parents. Of his supposed parents…

“You got somewhere to be, Kid?” Tony, voice tinged with some snark, pulled Peter out of his thoughts. He must have missed most of what they were saying because even May was looking at him with amusement.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long week. I imagine you’re looking forward to seeing Ted or whoever.”

“Ned.”

“Right.”

And then the adults resumed talking about the week, possibly planning another before the end of summer.

The second that he and May were back in the apartment, Peter was already searching for the boxes. His aunt took pity on him and announced,“They’re in your room.”

“Thanks, Aunt May!”

Thoughts of the week and Tony were shoved to the side as Peter started to slide the cardboard lid off the top. There was a layer of dust on it, despite having been covered, a testament to how long the documents and items had been put away.

On top was a picture of them, a young Peter between two brown eyed and brown haired adults. He looked like them, sort of. His father was tall and broad shouldered, bigger than Peter would ever grow to be. His mother had wavy hair and a beautiful face. Sighing, he set the photo aside and grabbed the first cluster of files.

There was mix of birth certificates and marriage certificates. It was apparent that this was where Aunt May and Uncle Ben had pulled his records from. Thumbing through the folder he found a copy of the will. It was generic, listing the next of kin, Ben Parker, as being the executor.

Peter set it aside and pulled out the next file.

There were some letters inside, handwritten mostly. A few postcards too. They were all addressed to Ben Parker, but after reading a couple it was clear that they were also for Peter. Little notes that said they were thinking of him. Little tidbits about the weather. Sometimes they were in Boston. Sometimes they were in Europe.

They travelled a lot and when they did he would stay with his aunt and uncle. His chest started to feel tight as he skimmed over a letter from Mary.

_My dearest Peter,_

_Most people don’t write letters anymore, but your father and I always want to give you a little memory of when we have to travel. Our work is important, but so are you and we hope these letters prove that. One day I hope you can understand that the sacrifice of our time was so you could live in a world at peace._

_Even knowing that, I wish I could see you. I wish I could sing you to sleep tonight and lay by your side. You are so strong and smart, my Peter. Our miracle._

_With all my love,_

_Mary_

Peter felt the corner of his eyes burn, suddenly overwhelmed. He wondered why Ben had never told him of the letters. He wondered if maybe his uncle was waiting for the right time and it just never came. Using his sleeve, Peter wiped away the remnants of his tears and reached for the next item.

This one was a manilla envelope tied shut with twine, looped several times over. It snapped with little effort on Peter’s end and he dumped out the contents.

Passports. Three of them. They were long expired, one for each of them. Richard Parker. Peter Parker. Mary Fitzpatrick. That one made Peter pause. She must have used her maiden name even after they were married.

There was also a white envelope, filled with money. It wasn’t much, a few hundred American dollars. Other bills from other countries took up the rest of the envelope. Peter assumed it was a few hundred in each currency. English pounds. Some Yen. A few that he’d never seen before.

His uncle had once mentioned that they worked for the government, doing audits on various departments about three or four times a year. Peter couldn’t recall anything else about what they had done for a living.

But he was about to find out.

Shoved between two school yearbooks was a thin folder, much like the others with a single difference. The front was stamped with the image of a bird.

It was the SHIELD seal.

Peter tried to contain the path of his thoughts, tried to keep his heart from beating out of his chest at this discovery. His parents traveled frequently. They died in a plane crash. They had passports and money. They worked for the government.

Almost all their assets were gone now, down to two boxes that his uncle had managed to squirrel away. Had Ben known the truth all along?

With shaking hands Peter opened the file.

It was a medical file, not the entire one, based on the page count at the bottom, but just a handful of documents. Some kind of identifier was at the top, a series of numbers and letters. Agent KS73.

This was his mother’s record. Mary’s name was never used, but the medical file detailed a pregnancy. There were notes about how the agent needed to take a leave of absence and the timeline for a return to work. More documents showed an ultrasound, his ultrasound. There was a note about how the baby was male and was growing appropriately. The doctor’s signature was illegible, par for the course for doctors. No name was given for them either.

Peter placed that file on top, then went through the other box. That one held more of the Parker’s childhood items. Additional yearbooks and family photos. And a couple of baseball trophies. Apparently his father could have been the star of the high school team…

Faced with all the info, Peter picked up his phone and dialed Ned.

_“What’s the word?”_

“My parents worked with SHIELD.”

_“No freaking way.”_

Peter turned on video and went down the list of what he’d found.

_“So, if your dad isn’t your dad. And you’re sure that your mom is SHIELD. Maybe that means your real dad was like a mission or something? Or a co-worker?”_

“Yeah, but how am I supposed to get that information? It’s not like I have a direct line to SHIELD. And with them kind of falling apart I’m not even sure that this info still exists.” Peter watched as Ned turned to his laptop. His man in the chair began typing, pulling up information on his end.

_“Well, based on the leak after the triskelion situation, most of the old records are stored in DC. According to the web, they didn’t want to go digital with the old stuff.”_

“Ugh, digital files would make this so much easier.” A quick hack job with the help of Karen and then he’d be one step closer.

_“…We could always break in…”_

“Hilarious Ned.”

_“The building isn’t Fort Knox or anything. If we planned it right it would be 15 minutes in and out…”_

“Ned, it’s in DC. I can’t go breaking into a government building in the Capital!”

_“To be fair it’s your property. I mean, it belonged to your mom and should have went to you, right? Think of it as rummaging through the lost and found bin.”_

“Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one?”

_“That’s Karen’s job now.”_

“Right. So, how do you think I should do this? How am I even going to get a ride to DC?”

_————————————_

With his schedule returned to normal, Peter found himself back at the gym that following Tuesday. Both Matt and Jessica were helping him train today, a pleasant surprise… at first. Later it became a literal pain to handle them both. Peter thanked his lucky stars that they were all on the same side.

“You know anyone who needs to go to DC for anything?” Peter asked between gasps as he attempted to punch Matt in the face.

“That’s a real specific question, Pete.” The corner of Matt’s mouth pulled in an amused smile.“What do you need to go to DC for?”

“I need to break into a SHIELD facility and steal the file of my mom in order to find out who my real dad is?” Matt caught Peter’s fist in his hand, that smile turning into a downright frown. With a quick twist of his wrist, he sent Peter to the floor. It didn’t hurt anything more than Peter’s pride, but really sent home the fact that Peter was too distracted to spar today. At this point Jessica was heading back to the ring, shooting a snide comment their way about already needing a break.

Matt ignored it to say, “That’s… a lot,” at Matt’s words Peter could only nod before spilling the whole story, from registration to the boxes. He told him about the blood work and the database. And then how he discovered the SHIELD file. It wasn’t a particularly long one, but Matt was still stunned at the end of it. “So now you want someone to take you to DC and you want to use me as cover with your Aunt?”

He felt guilt about it… lately he felt guilt about a lot of things. Keeping secrets from Tony. Lying to his Aunt. Asking for favors he hadn’t earned yet. Even still, Peter gave another nod. “Yeah. This is going to help me find out the truth.”

Matt seemed to mull it over for a minute, leaning back on his hands as he shifted his body to face Jessica. “Hey Jones, you want to take Peter to Washington?”

The glare Jessica was giving Matt was enough to even put Peter on edge. “The fuck you volunteering me for?”

“I’d do it, but I’m afraid it’s illegal for me to drive.” With a mocking gesture, Matt flicked a hand towards his unseeing eyes.

The woman made a sound of distaste, nose scrunching in annoyance. Her eyes darted between the two of them, before narrowing on Peter, “Why not talk to the sugar daddy?”

“Who?” Peter’s brow furrowed in confusion, which shifted into horror when Matt finally clarified.

“She means Stark.”

Ew, ew, ew. “One, gross. Two, Mr. Stark has enough to deal with right now. The other Avengers are back now and he’s having to handle it. I figured I could do this one on my own.”

From her perch against the corner of the boxing ring, Jessica crossed her arms and scoffed, “Kid, you can’t make it to DC alone, much less break into a SHIELD building.”

“I meant with my own…” Peter waved at them, “…resources.”

An overly dramatic huff left Jessica, who uncrossed her arms and covered her face. “Oh God, he think’s we’re functioning heroes.”

“Worse. He think’s we’re resources.” Matt was giving him that amused smile again.

“I’d do all the breaking in on my own. I just… need a ride?” Hopeful, Peter looked between the two.

“Christ, he’s giving me those baby eyes. Not like you can see it, Murdock, but it’s disgusting.” Another dramatic huff, “You know this is going to cost you.”

“I don’t have any money.” Which they already knew. Peter just felt it was worth mentioning as Jessica had a greedy look in her eyes. Greedy and a little rabid if he was being honest.

“We operate in favors. Murdock here owes me legal counsel. You’re gonna owe me…” Jessica trailed off to think of appropriate compensation, “…twelve hours of stalking.”

Stalking?! “What?”

Again, Matt clarified, “She means for her PI business.”

“Oh, okay. Sure.” He could do that. Some photos, some recordings. Yeah, it seemed like a fair trade. Maybe he could even put it on his resume. His severely lacking resume.

“And you’ll get your counsel, Jones. Probably soon if you guys aren’t careful in DC.” Matt shifted away from Jessica to face Peter. His hand found Peter’s shoulder, grip firm to indicate that he wasn’t playing around anymore. Peter sometimes referred to it as Matt’s Lawyer-Mode. “In all seriousness, if you two get arrested, don’t say anything. Keep your mouth shut and wait for me. I’ll cover with your Aunt unless anything goes south. That happens and you’ll be telling her, and Stark, what you’re doing. Got it?”

So, don’t get caught. And if you get caught, don’t say anything. Oh and be prepared to be grounded if you do get caught. Forever. Peter nodded, “Got it.”

“So,” Jessica glanced over at Peter, “when we doing this road trip?”

“Whenever you’re ready? It’s summer, I’ve got free time.”

Jessica was ready to go in two hours…


	13. Chapter 13

They got a hotel room that was just a few blocks away from the SHIELD facility, one of those sleazy rent by the hour places. Jessica seemed all too familiar with the system so Peter let her take the lead.

While she finalized that, Peter rummaged through his backpack. He had come prepared with his laptop, the other files, and a guarantee that Ned would be available later that night when the break in was scheduled. Jessica had demanded that he leave anything Spiderman related back in New York.

She’d brought with her a couple masks and two pairs of gloves.

“I feel like a criminal,” he’d said with a sigh while holding his set.

“Probably because you’re holding a mask that’s going to be used to hide your identity while you break into a government building.” When his face didn’t relax, Jessica added, “Listen, we’re vigilantes. We break the law all the time. We just so happen to justify it by saying it’s for the greater good. So, ask yourself if this is for the greater good.”

“You don’t have to go with me. I can do this.” Probably.

“You’re not the only one who needs something from SHIELD.”

He thought of asking her about it, but from the few times they’d trained together it was clear that she wasn’t a sharer by nature. So Peter kept his mouth shut and nodded.

Settled into the room, hunched over a small desk, they both looked at the computer screen as Peter pulled up with building information. They’d gotten info from Ned beforehand during the long car ride, which made planning easier.

Though Peter wasn’t as familiar with breaking and entering, he still took the lead in the planning phase. Jessica seemed to accept this, mentioning once that it was good experience. How often did she think he would be doing something like this?!

“So, it’s got two guards and a small number of on site workers.” Peter pointed to the map layout, finger trailing around the building. “There’s video, here,” Peter pointed towards some externalcorners. “Here, here. And Here. but no audio feed. Our best time for getting inside is around midnight. All the workers will be gone and the guards will be transitioning shifts.”

“Think your friend can keep an eye out on police comms?”

“Yeah, he’s linked up with Karen so that’ll help.” Peter pulled up a new window on his screen, the blueprints of the building. “So the entire south side of the building is just evidence storage. We shouldn’t need to go into that area at all. West side is offices. We’re going into the east entrance and heading in this hallway.There’s a total of three locked doors between us and the files I need.”

“We’ll go our separate ways in the file room. Meet back up within five minutes. Should be more than enough time.” Jessica tapped the screen, pointing to a corner. “They’ll have cameras somewhere around here. Can Karen take care of that?”

Peter held up a flash drive. “Yeah. I brought a connection point for her. First computer we see we can pop it in.”

“Where’d you learn to do this?” From the look on her face, Peter could almost pretend that Jessica was proud.

Peter shrugged, “Movies.”

“Well, we all gotta start somewhere.”

A few hours later they were parked a few blocks from the SHIELD building. Aside from the very small plaque by the front door there was nothing to indicate that they are at the right place. Peter caught sight of all the video cameras on the north east side, figuring out the blind spots in a matter of moments.

His spider sense was thrumming, not urgently screaming, but just a mild hiss that told him to be on alert. Jessica had told him to think of it as intel gathering on a bad guy. Sure, he could do that. Peter had broken into a few places once or twice to get a lead on the gangs in Queens.

However, talk meant very little at the moment.

Peter slipped on the black mask, shot a glance towards his watch. It was an SI watch, one of the latest models. He frowned as he unclasped it, setting it inside the glovebox. At Jessica’s questioning glance, Peter answered, “I don’t want Mr. Stark involved…”

Well, any more than he would be once Peter used Karen.

Slipping a wireless earbud into his ear, Peter called Ned.

_“Ready?”_

“Yep.”

_“Okay, I’m plugging Karen into the phone now. She said she could scramble the signal for about twenty minutes… but it isn’t 100 percent.”_

“It’s better than what we have.”

_“I’ll be on with you the whole time. No matter what.”_

“You ready?” Jessica tapped Peter’s shoulder, pointing towards the clock on the radio. They were a moment away from the shift change. That was his cue.

Hands sweating, Peter slipped out of the car and started towards the building. It was deserted for the most part, but given the right, or wrong, timing the cops could be there in a matter of minutes. Peter darted between the blind spots of the camera as they rotated, finding himself next to the wall in no time.

It was offset brick, which made it easier to look like he was climbing normal. Just in case they missed a camera somewhere.

With his nerves on high, Peter had to focus hard to keep his adhesive hands from going haywire. _Breathe, climb. Breathe, climb._

In no time at all Peter was on the roof, keeping low to avoid being seen by the guards that were still on the ground. There was an air intake on the roof, industrial and sized just right for a lanky teen to slither into.

 _“How are you doing, Peter?”_ Ned’s voice was soft over the earpiece.

“Good,” Peter whispered back. “You know how we made fun of all the movies about people climbing in vents?”

_“Yeah?”_

“Some of these are actually pretty wide….” Muffled laughter came from the other end of the line and Peter couldn’t help but smile.

Eventually the air intake vent led to the central unit, but just before that was another access point for maintenance. Peter flipped the tabs that held it closed, lowering it slowly so he could see where it let out.

The room matched the blueprint. A sort of large maintenance closet that had the central air unit and a water heater. Low and behold, both of those were on an electronic system for remote monitoring. Peter pulled out the flash drive as he climbed out of the vent, dropping down next to the modem and router. He slipped it into the back of the router, sending up a silent prayer that his code worked. “Karen linked in yet?”

 _“I am connected, Peter.”_ Peter released a heavy sigh of relief. They were inside the network now.

“Okay. Set the video footage on a loop and unlock the doors.”

Peter could hear the click of the electronic locks as they disengaged. _“I have established a three minute loop cycle. I will update based on your location to prevent detection.”_

_“You’re so cool, Karen.”_

“Yeah, she’s awesome all right.” Peter, still whispering, responded as he moved to the door of the room. There shouldn’t be any guards in this area for at least another hour, but with the locks opening it was possible that it could trigger a response. Peter placed a hand on the door and closed his eyes, listening intently.

No footsteps. Just the hum of lights.

He stepped out into the hallway, jogging to get to the east door as quickly as possible to let Jessica in. It went flawlessly. The main door opened with no resistance and Peter waved her inside. Then they were moving towards the records room.

Inside there were rows upon rows of filing cabinets. Peter glanced at the closest label. CE-DU.

The system matched what Karen had found earlier. Everything was alphabetized by the first two letters of the file code. Easy. The file Peter was looking for was several cabinets down. Jessica was digging through a drawer next to it.

KE-LO. Peter opened the drawer and started thumbing through the records. Each one was thicker than a textbook, an entire career summed up in sheets of paper.

KS73.

Peter pulled it from the stack and opened it.

It wasn’t his mother’s.

The very first page was the Agent Information page. Peter quickly read it over. Katherine Shane. She was a little younger than Mary would have been, about five years her junior. She’d started working for SHIELD directly out of high school, a sort of special circumstance. There were notes on page two from Director Fury, annotating that she’d been a grifter and would make an exceptional field agent. It was his letter of recommendation…

If KS73 was for Katherine Shane, then the assignments weren’t random.

Peter tucked the file under his arm and opened the next cabinet.

LU-MU.

He thumbed for Mary Parker and was frustrated to find there was no MP.

“It’s not here…”

He went back a few files. There was a single MF. Mary Fitzpatrick. He pulled that file too and prepared to open it, stopped short when Jessica tugged on his shoulder.

“Time to go, shortstack.”

Under her arm was her own manilla folder, labeled JJ12.

“You were SHIELD?” His whisper was louder than he wanted it to be, but it stunned her into stillness.

“These aren’t all SHIELD agents,” Jessica waved to the cabinets behind her, “It’s a surveillance file.” It remained unsaid that it was because of her powers.

For a brief moment Peter wondered if he had a record here too, but then he remembered that all of these were over a decade old at least.

They shut all the drawers and started for the door. Peter felt a flare of alarm, brain loudly humming at him. Just as he was about to ask, he heard Ned shout, _“Karen is picking up the police scanners. They’re coming your way!”_

_“A silent alarm has been triggered. You have four minutes before law enforcement arrives, Peter. Would you like me to call in assistance?”_

Eyes wide, Peter met Jessica’s gaze. “The cops are coming.”

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.“How long?”

“Less than four minutes.”

_“Video footage is being overwritten. I am activating the termination procedure for the flash drive. I’m sorry, Peter.”_

“It’s fine, Karen.”

“Me and you have two different definitions of that word.” Then Jessica went silent for a few long seconds as she crossed her arms, file tucked against her chest, and closed her eyes. Peter recognized it as her attempt at controlling anger. When she was done, she unfolded and started for the door. “We can’t take the car. We’ll have to foot it out of here and come back for it later.”

“Okay…”

“Don’t get shot.” Jessica jerked open the door and they were running down the hallway. At the other end was a guard.

Her earlier words seemed to finally register, “Shot?!”

The guard lifted his hand and Peter saw the gun just as the muzzle flared. He let instinct take over, jumping in front of Jessica to pull her out of the path of the bullet. It was awkward with the files still tucked under one arm, but they successfully avoided the next few rounds. God forbid he ended up with a bullet hole in him. Mr. Stark would be _pissed!_

A moment later and Peter had closed the distance between them, quickly jerking the gun out of the guard’s hand. “That’s not very nice. We didn’t even hurt anyone.” The metal of the pistol gave under his fist and Peter dropped the offending weapon. The display was enough to send the guard stumbling back in surprise and fear.

“Move!” Jessica shouted at him, tugging Peter along towards the east door. Right, they were supposed to be getting out of dodge.

Another guard appeared, blocking the door. He wasn’t holding a gun, but rather a gun-like replacement. Two prongs shot out of it and Peter reached out and caught them both in his fist before he could stop himself, an instant need to inspect them overtaking common sense.

The jolt that shot through him was excruciating, every muscle lit on fire. His spine went ramrod straight and he would have fallen forward had Jessica not grabbed him by the back of his shirt. “Drop them!” Jessica demanded, trying to work her fingers into his fist to remove the taser prongs.

She was shuffling around him, ignore the guard who was approaching. With his muscles still under the control of electricity, Peter couldn’t even think about opening his hand. He cried out, the sound muffled through his clenched teeth. If this went on any longer he was certain his heart would burst from the strain.

Jessica was talking again, but he couldn’t make out all the words above the roaring in his ears.

“-ly two sec-“ Then it was over. His legs gave out, knees buckling. Peter fell to the floor, dead weight. The files spread underneath him. It felt like he had taken ten swings against a brick wall. His partner in crime seemed to be frustrated at picking up his slack, her face pinched in annoyance. Through a teary gaze he saw her picking up his files and tucking them in with her own.

Then she lifted him by the middle and continued to the door. He could see the guard on the ground, unconscious, but breathing.

Peter’s fingers twitched, the first sign of muscle control returning. How had he gone so long without getting tased? Was this his weakness? His mind raced while the world around him seemed to trudge along at a snails pace.

Jessica moved him with the ease of moving a toddler, shoving him this way and that as she worked the locked door open. With one hand on his shoulder and the older holding all the files, Jessica settled for kicking it open.

The door flew off the hinges and Peter heard her mutter, “oops.”

He was able to flex his wrist and elbow. Jessica must have sense the movement because shestilled and practically dropped him to the ground. Her form was blurry as she stood above him, her hand smacking his cheek less than gently. “Hey, get your shit together. We gotta move.”

“Mmm, trynng.”

“Fuck, okay. I don’t know what powers you have, but you need to dig real deep, real quick.” Peter struggled at her words, rolling on the ground. Every muscle protested, but at least they were responding now. Another roll and he ended up on his hands and knees, blinking away white spots in his vision. Jessica tugged at his shirt, pulling him to his feet and Peter quickly found himself limping after her.

The sirens in the distance sent Peter’s spider sense into high alert, but they were far enough away to slip between the buildings and get away unnoticed. After walking for a couple of hours he and Jessica ended up in a diner, the masks, and their jackets, ditched in an alley.

The remnant pain of the taser was faded, a few twitchy muscles the only reminder of how quickly Peter had succumbed to the weapon.

“So apparently you and Murdock need to work out your training. Can’t believe you haven’t been tased before. Almost got us sent to a federal pen.” Her reprimand was quick, followed up with two orders of french fries and burgers.

“Oh yeah, like you tested out a taser on yourself.”

“Literally one of the first rules of this vigilante shit. Know what knocks you down.”

“Well I know a few things.”

“Know more. Oh, and take this,” she shoved some quarters into Peter’s hand, “Use the payphone and call your friend. I’ve got a feeling he’s freaking out and bothering Mudock, who actually has a real job.”

Peter thanked her and did as instructed. Ned had been freaking out, but at least he hadn’t called Matt. They scheduled a time to meet, a rough agreement between them that Peter would wait to look at the files.

Just in case it wasn’t what he wanted to find…


	14. Chapter 14

“When I said there were restricted areas on the compound, that was meant for you.” Tony crossed his arms, hip against the counter of the kitchenette while he stared at Natasha. He wasn’t entirely angry with her, not when it hadn’t been made entirely clear who were still on the naughty list.

Still, she should have known that her presence wasn’t exactly wanted on the day to day.

“It was just a conversation, Tony. And we ran into one another in an unrestricted section.” The Widow didn’t dance around the issue. She knew the moment she talked to Peter that Tony would find out. And as their paths crossed almost a week later, Natasha could sense it was still on his mind.

When Tony’s scowl remained, Natasha tried another tactic. Flattery. “He’s sweet.”

The lines around his eyes relaxed a little and he turned away from her to rummage through the fridge. “Yeah, and I don’t want you, or any of them, messing with that.”

Natasha hummed, head tilting, “He thinks highly of you.” Pause. “Toss me some fruit, please.”

“Can’t imagine why, not since he’s gotten to know me.”

“Self depreciating isn’t a good look on you,” she tisked at Tony, catching an apple that he threw over his shoulder.

“Try bitter.”

Casually, with them both seated around the island and eating, Natasha basked in the domesticity and probed, “When is he coming back?”

“I don’t know.” Tony released a sigh, “Every time I see him I end up putting bad ideas in his head.”

“I doubt that. Seems like a smart kid.” A ping sounded on her phone, pulling them away from the conversation.

Tony watched as her brow furrowed at the screen. “Something wrong?”

“SHIELD chatter.” Natasha’s eyes darted back and forth as she read the report. “Two people broke into a storage facility last night. It’s mainly used to house old records.”

“Seems below your pay-grade.”

“They’re going to send the footage over. Whoever it was, they were in and out in less than ten minutes.” Based on her tone, Tony figured she was a little impressed by the time. He’d have to take her word for itbecause he knew very little about SHIELD storage procedures. Their networks on the other hand…

“They know what was taken?”

Natasha shook her head, “The inventory is being reviewed. I’m not hopeful though. After the leak there was a scramble to get everything relocated. Some of the physical stuff was lost in the shuffle.”

While Natasha continued to read, Tony checked his schedule. It was still early, which meant he didn’t have any SI obligations yet. Nor did the rest of the compound residents need him. He sighed, resigned to the next few hours of doing a _beneath-him_ security review. “Alright. Send the files to the server and we’ll look at them in the lab.”

Natasha seemed to brighten at the prospect of team-work. Tony did his best to ignore the enthusiasm. He certainly wasn’t ready to jump into the deep in of the team pool.

The two of them pulled up projections of the security footage from the SHIELD facility. Tony setup simultaneous monitors to see the primary feeds. While those loaded, Tony pulled the log data from the router. If he was going to break into a building, one of the first places he would go would be to the network. Compromise it internally and that was that.

“Alright Fri, get me any outdoor cameras that are facing the east side of the building. Security shows the doors unlocked at 12:03, so get me five minutes lead time.”

_“On it, Boss.”_

“The cameras are looped.” Natasha pointed towards the corner of one of the feeds, indicating a flickering light that occasionally repeated.

“Not all of them. Looks like they loop based on the location of the intruders.” FRIDAY helped Tony mark the path, confirming that the intruders had made their way into a record storage room. Even to SHIELD it must have been low priority. The overall security of the building was severely lacking.

_“I’m afraid there are no cameras with direct line of sight facing those doors.”_

Tony nodded, “These two are good.” Nothing on the feed so far. Tony went back to the network log. He sorted through the lines. Security was his bread and butter, second only to engineering. For anyone else they would have missed it.

Two identical lines in the log. Repeated.

“That shouldn’t be there.” Nothing was deleted, no logs were _unable_ to be retrieved. No… whoever had compromised the network had overwritten data. Practically flawless. Almost too perfect.

Tony’s hands stilled. He knew the code. He recognized the syntax, the unique signature. Like spotting a family member’s handwriting in a sea of scribbles.

It was Karen. Peter’s AI.

“What is it?” Tony jumped at Natasha’s voice, forgetting that he wasn’t alone.

He couldn’t tell her. But he couldn’t stop the search either. If he walked away now then Natasha would know something was up. “Fri, see if you can overwrite the loop.” It couldn’t be done. Karen would have made sure of it. Heck, Tony had made sure of it.

His own code used against him. He didn’t know whether to be proud of the kid or disappointed.

Okay, he was proud…

Like a proud mama bird, who’s son just learned to fly and was wrecking havoc on the underlings below.

_“I’m sorry, Boss. The footage is unavailable.”_

“It was worth a shot.” Natasha accepted the situation with ease. Then she followed up with, “Whoever it was will probably hit another target. SHIELD will work on a honeypot and go from there.” God, Tony hoped not. 

“I’ll keep working on it. I know you’re dying to check in with Barton to see what he says about it.” The gamble paid off. Natasha nodded, gave him a brief thanks, and left the lab.

He gave her ten minutes of lead time before he went back to the computers.

“Friday, secure room.” Giving up wasn’t in Tony’s programming. He just couldn’t let Nat be there when he finally broke the code and retrieved the data.

It took just under two hours for him to break his own code and pull up four still frames that hadn’t been overwritten. Three showed a masked individual standing in a hallway.

The fourth had that same person hanging upside down from the ceiling in some kind of maintenance room. The same way he had caught Peter hanging at least a dozen times.

Tony deleted them all…

———————————————

Matt, Jessica, Ned, and Peter met at the gym. Jessica insisted she didn’t give a shit about Peter’s secret parents, but by showing up it made it hard for Peter to believe her. Matt was there as moral support. And Ned was there because he claimed this was the biggest thing he was a part of since finding out that Peter was Spiderman.

Everyone had their own reasons.

Peter just wished he knew what his were.

The two files were a little out of order due to Peter dropping them after he was tased. Jessica had done her best in the diner to sort them out, which was clear when Peter opened them and got page 1 off the bat.

“So, the ultrasound and medical info in the box at home actually came from the records of Katherine Shane.” Peter tapped her file, briefly summarizing things he found as he thumbed through the pages. “She was used for corporate surveillance. Looks like Nick Fury vouched for her at first.”

“Is that Stark Industries?” Ned reached over, pointing at a logo on the page Peter had just opened to.

“Yeah. She… looks like she had a mission to keep an eye on Tony Stark.” He passed a handful of papers to Ned, dividing the stack up.

Thumbing through his own sheets, Peter got to her medical file. “Here it says that she was pulled from assignment due to her pregnancy.” Then there were missing pages. The ones from the box his aunt had given him. “Leave of absence. Birth of a boy. And then…”

A certified death certificate.

“She died.”

Peter set aside Katherine’s file, only to pull Mary’s into his lap. A sense of emptiness filled him, disconnection from the world. He almost knew what he would find.

Her medical files show a pregnancy. There was an ultrasound there too. Peter recognized it as the same one in Katherine Shane’s file, identical down to the white circle that indicate the sex. Instead of KS73, it read MF05. But that was a lie, because two pages earlier a doctor had noted that the fetus was a girl and was growing according to schedule.

Mary Fitzgerald had been pregnant with a girl. Katherine Shane had been pregnant with a boy.

They knew that Katherine Shane was dead.

No information existed about the child Mary Fitzgerald had carried.

“Peter…”

Ned tapped him on the shoulder, drew Peter’s attention to a sheet of paper.

_Agent Shane indicated that she was compromised. Refer to previous mission for further information._

Her last mission had been to observe Tony Stark, to collect data to ensure that Stark Industries wasn’t a threat against the government. What did it mean by compromised?

“Dude….” Ned’s voice dropped to a whisper, as if what he was about to say was a secret. “Does this mean Tony Stark is your father?”

Matt huffed over their shoulders, “Okay, anyone plan on looping in the blind man?”

“Kid figured out that there was a record swap,” Jessica chimed in, “And a baby swap. Just fucked up SHIELD stuff as usual.”

“My mother wasn’t Mary Fitzpatrick… I’m not.. I’m not…” A Parker? He couldn’t voice it, couldn’t bear to lose that part of himself. Suddenly, his throat felt tight. Peter dropped the files and stood.“I need to go to a registration center.” He needed confirmation. Closure.

A hand on his shoulder stilled him. Matt’s hand, steady and firm. “They haven’t set one up in the city yet. Closest one is Upstate.”

Upstate. Near the compound. Near Mr. Stark. Who might be his father?

Oh god, no. He couldn’t hold that mantle. The son of the great Tony Stark. He wasn’t enough, could never be enough.

The lights of the gym burned his retina, forcing Peter to clench his eyes shut. The hand on his shoulder pushed his shirt into skin, the sensation grating like sandpaper.With a quick slap, Peter removed the offending hand and stepped back. “Sorry.” He muttered, only to regret it when the word echoed through his bones, a deep rattle that _stung_.

A swell of pain settled into his stomach, a sharp cramping that almost caused him to curl over in defeat. For a moment everything around him went blank.

_“Matt, do something!”_

_“-ing, Jessica. Focus. Peter, I need you to-“_

Another set of hands reached for him, tugging at his shirt to yank it over his head. Something settled over his ears, blocking out the rest of the conversation. The hands continued to touch him, guiding him into a sitting position on the floor, knees up so his arms could lock around them. A soft blanket settled on his shoulders, blocking out the sting of the cool air as it hit his bare back.

It lasted… well Peter wasn’t sure how long it lasted.

All he knew was that when he opened his eyes, both Ned and Jessica were gone.

He was laying on his side, that soft blanket snug around him.Blinking a few times he reassessed the world around him. Matt was seated close, fingers on a book. The man seemed content to work while Peter rested. The headphones that Ned had placed on him were lying in front of Matt. Peter also noticed that the files were once again neatly arranged in their folders.

“Feeling better?” Matt’s voice was gentle, softer than usual, probably an attempt to keep Peter from slipping back into a hypersensitive mode.

“Yeah,” Peter managed, then sought out his shirt, quickly tugging it back on.

There was a long pause as Matt _looked_ him over. The man’s head tilted, a frown on his face. Peter wondered if he was listening to his heart or if he’d gotten attuned enough to listen to his brain.

Matt’s fingers tapped the book. Once. Twice. Then he quickly closed it and set it aside, all his attention rested on Peter, “So, we going to talk about why the thought of Tony Stark being your father sent you into a panic attack?”

“Would you believe me if I said I don’t know?”

“Without a doubt. If you said it, that is.”

Peter fisted the blanket, eyes drifting around the room as he tried to put his thoughts into words. “I…. He’s my hero.”

Matt, still frowning, corrected Peter. “He’s just a man.”

“No. I mean, yeah. It’s one thing to learn that my parents weren’t my parents. It’s another to find that I could be the kid of… of a legend. He’s Ironman. He’s a genius.”

“You’re a genius, too. And you’re Spiderman. You may not be a legend, but people in Queens knows you’re a hero.”

“I know.” Peter couldn’t look at Matt yet, didn’t want him to see the uncertainty… the insecurity on Peter’s face.“He just… he made something of himself. Got through Afghanistan. Went up against Captain America. He’s crazy smart, his hands can create anything. And he’s… he doesn’t have a family. Never had kids. Doesn’t that mean he didn’t want them?”

“You think Stark wouldn’t want you? Peter, I don’t know how you could have missed that the man already thinks of you like his son.” Matt’s tone was steady, along with his heart rate. From what Peter could sense, he was telling the truth. “Stark wanted me to train you, he picked a man who is polar opposite from him. Not because it was easy, but because it was right for you. He checks in. He called me last week asking for advice on you registering.”

“That’s what mentors do.”

“No. No, it’s what parents do.”

The truth could be hard to accept, “We don’t even know if it’s him.”

“From those files, we have a pretty good idea. But you’re right. We need to confirm it.” Matt stood up, hand waving towards the items on the floor. “Pack it up, we’re heading to Jersey.”

“Jersey!?”

“Yep. Turns out they have a registration center there.”

Jessica drove them. She made it clear that they were racking up morefavors than she needed and that next time they were both up shit creek. Still, Peter thanked her and got another ten hours added onto his owed surveillance time.

Matt and Jessica waited in the car while Peter walked up to the brand new building. A sign on the door directed him to stand in front of a camera so the automatic system could identify him.

HAWKS’ voice sounded after Peter heard the scanner finish, “Please step inside.”

It was almost identical to the registration center at the compound, if a little smaller. When the door closed and the room was secure, HAWKS spoke up again, “Welcome back, Mr. Parker. Have you come to complete your registration?”

“Yep. Pull up the bio-data for me.”

A holographic screen appeared. All the fields were complete except for one. First Peter edited the mother field, updating it to read Katherine Shane. It was the least he could do for the woman who carried him. Right?

Then he went to type into the father section. Peter was unsurprised that his hands were shaking.

Tony Stark, he typed in and then pressed enter.

 _“Data rejected. Does not match established input.”_ Well… he hadn’t been expecting that. Peter deleted the name, staring for a moment.

Clarity hit him a second later.

Anthony Stark. Peter pressed enter.

The data remained.


	15. Chapter 15

Peter crouched on the roof of the Clock Tower at the plaza. It had been ages since he’d been on a proper patrol, so when the little stuff came up he didn’t mind it. He didn’t hesitate to pull two cats out of trees, or guide a lost dog back to it’s owner. He also helped FOUR old ladies cross different roads. Peter was rocking at being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman.

Back to basics, as Matt would say.

He slipped is hand into his pocket, withdrawing a picture that he’d carried with him for the last few days. It had taken some digging to find a photo in color, compared to the black and white images that were in her file. He unfolded it to look at the woman.

Katherine Shane. Her black hair, or maybe just dark brown, reached past her shoulders. She was wearing some kind of white scarf over a blue blazer, staring straight ahead at the camera. Fearless.

She’d been around 33 or so when she’d given birth to him. A part of Peter wondered if she was just ready to have a child, if this would have been the start of an early retirement. She’d carried him, accepted the fact that she was pulled off the mission. He’d found one report that talked about her mission, how she had gotten a job as an intern in the Engineering department. Though it had been a cover story, it didn’t mean she hadn’t earned it.

Katherine Shane was smart. Clever. Even her reports held the occasional sarcasm. It was how she’d gotten close to Stark. That touch of humor, good looks, and brains to match it all. Peter wondered if Tony would even remember her…

The distinct sound of breaking glass jerked him from his thoughts. With a flick of his wrist, Peter was swinging towards the sound.

It was a classic case of a pawn shop burglary.

Complete with two robbers wearing face masks. Much like the one he had worn in DC. Peter webbed them up right outside the door, then webbed the door itself in an effort to deter any passerby from trying to repeat the crime.

Somehow he ended up swinging in a makeshift hammock between two light posts, head turned as he looked at the robbers. They had stopped groaning about getting caught, which gave him the perfect opening.

“If you found out that your parents weren’t your parents, and your bio parent was like, famous and rich, then would you tell them? I mean, I get that most people care about money and fame, but the parent is so famous that it’s intimidating.”

“Uh…” One of the burglars tried to tilt his head a little more, as if to get some support from his partner in crime. Partner in crime nodded, waving his hand as much as he could, considering from his wrist down it was webbed up, for him to continue. “I mean, why _not_ tell them? Don’t you think they deserve to know.”

“It’d be stressful.” Yeah that was it, Peter nodded to himself. “Almost too stressful. And they have a heart condition!” Mr. Stark would have a heart attack. Maybe.

“Yeah, but he, _or she_ , is an adult. They’re allowed to be stressed out over important stuff.”

“Also,” Burglar number two, “If they’re rich then you could do whatever you want. Like go to college. Or pick any job. You wouldn’t be as tied down by society.”

“That’s a good point, Jeff, real good point.”

Peter turned on his side, facing them and giving a questioning shrug, “What if they never wanted kids?”

“I don’t think that matters now since they have one.”

“I guess. But what if it changed everything? It would change how they treated you. They may want to put you in a bubble or a box, and label it as fragile or something. ”

“Change is inevitable, but it isn’t always bad.” Sage advice from a man trying to rob a pawn shop…

Peter turned his head, giving the two men a nod. “Thanks guys.” Then he picked up the sound of sirens and gave an apologetic shrug. “That’s my cue.”

A part of him hoped that the cops wouldn’t be too hard on the guys.

He was back on the clock tower when Karen alerted him to an incoming call. Before he was able to ask her to send it to voicemail, he heard the line open and Mr. Stark’s voice, “ _Hey Kid,_ _you on patrol?”_

“Yeah. How’d you know?”

 _“Stats show you at over 200 feet above ground level.”_ Peter smiled under his mask.

“I could be in a tall-ish building.”

 _“Don’t sass me, Underroos.”_ The light teasing tone in Tony’s voice kept Peter from rushing to apologize. Instead the teen basked in the moment.

“You’re watching my stats?”

_“Not usually, no. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a bad time.”_

“It’s not.”

 _“I wanted to see if you can come back out to the compound.”_ Oh god. He knew. Mr. Stark knew and he was going to break it to Peter that this could never work. _“Because I finished a moderate suit upgrade and I want to get it installed. ASAP.”_

Peter’s hand slipped from his perch on the roof, but he quickly righted himself a moment later. Thankfully Mr. Stark couldn’t see him stumble…

“I, uh, I have a thing. With Ned. Coming up soon.” Peter stopped, took a quick breath to steady himself, and managed to ask, “When did you want me there?”

 _“You know, if I didn’t know any better I would think you’re avoiding me.”_ There was an underlying note of seriousness in his voice.

“No! I’m not. I just… haven’t been patrolling. Sort of falling behind.”

_“O-kay, I’m going to go ahead and schedule something with your Aunt. Joint Custody style. Should be seeing you in a few days.”_

Joint Custody!? What did that mean?! Peter blinked blankly as Karen ended the call.

Then the panic set in. He was going to be standing in front of Tony Stark. Lying to the man’s face. His father who had no idea that he existed. And then Peter would be there, sleeping in his father’s house. Eating his father’s food. This was a nightmare. This was a nightmare wrapped in a dream wrapped in another nightmare.

Peter just wanted a little bit of normal. With a long sigh he jumped off the roof and finished the patrol.

Later that night when he and Aunt May were eating dinner, Peter considered telling her. She’d commented on his behavior lately, had correctly tied it to the fact that he’d went through his parents things almost two weeks ago.

So he gave her the half truth that would bring them closer, but not the one that threatened to tear them apart.

_I’m not a Parker._

“My mom was a SHIELD agent.”

May continued to chew on her Thai, though she set her fork down at Peter’s announcement. After a long silence she turned to him, “I’m sorry, what?”

“My mom. She worked for SHIELD. That’s why she traveled so much.” From the look on her face, it was clear that May didn’t know anything about it.

“Ben never talked much about Richard’s job. I knew they did some government work. I mean, when they died some of their personal effects were taken. We didn’t think to fight for them, not when we were too busy getting you settled in.” There was a touch of regret in her voice, but Peter shook his head and told her it was okay.

“Richard was CIA.” Another bit that Peter and Ned had come across in Mary’s file.

“That’s… wow. Is that what’s been on your mind?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah. I’ve been thinking about them recently.”

“It’s normal to be curious. I guess it also makes sense. You’ve always been driven to do the right thing. Your parents probably were too. And they must have been smart to get those kinds of jobs.”

Yeah. They were. Smart and brave.

“Yeah…”

She asked more questions and Peter tried to answer as much as he knew about Mary and Richard. It was like they learned it together when he pulled out the files. He didn’t tell her that Mary’s had come from DC and not from the box.

Peter even tried to give her the money that had been in the passport envelope, which May quickly denied, shoving it back into his hands. “Your parents. Your money. “ With the hard look in her eyes, Peter didn’t argue. “I’m sorry you never got to know them.” He’d missed out on them. But as he looked at May and the Thai food on the table, Peter didn’t _feel_ like he was worse off for it.

“It’s okay.” Peter hugged her tight, “I got you.”

And Peter didn’t want to let anything change that.

———————————————

Mr. Stark knew something. Peter could tell. It wasn’t just his sixth sense buzzing, but also the sideways looks as Mr. Stark glanced over at him. After arriving to the compound, Peter was directed to the Kitchenette by Happy. There was an unspoken conversation between the two adults, some hand waving, a quick point in Peter’s direction. At one point Happy signed for Tony to calm down.

Eventually Happy stalked out into the hall, leaving a confused Peter asking, “Uh… is everything alright?”

Tony let out a quick huff, “Just making sure we’re alone for this.” Friday initiated a privacy protocol, limited enough to where someone in the same wing wouldn’t know it was happening. Peter had used it once or two before.

His eyes met Mr. Starks.

Mr. Stark knew. Peter could see it all over his expression. “I know, Kid.”

“You know?” Peter felt the color drain from his face. Oh god. He was going to be sick. He wouldn’t be Spiderman anymore. He’d be in the public eye. He’d be taken from May. He’d never live up to his mentors, _his father’s_ , expectations. His life would be different. Unrecognizable!

“So, we going to talk about it?”

Peter’s mouth fell open, a fish gaping for air that wasn’t there, “What, uh….?”

“Funny, I was going to ask that same questions. What made you think you could hide it? You’re lucky I was with Nat when she got the call.” Natasha got a call? That didn’t make sense. A call about what. _Huh?_

Head tilted, eyes wide, Peter managed a strangled sounding, “ _What_?”

“You stuck on a loop, underroos?” Annoyed, Tony snapped his fingers, “You broke into a SHIELD building. Not exactly subtle.”

The breath that Peter had been holding came out in a whoosh. Oh! There was a relief, and an underlying disappointment, when Peter realized that Tony was talking about the Washington break-in. It was immediately overshadowed by concern.

“Oh my god, The black widow knows? I’m so dead….”

“Relax. She didn’t know it was you. I only figured it out because I recognized Karen’s code. And you’re lucky I did, because it allowed me to get rid of the evidence of _your_ crime.” Tony crossed his arms, assuming a position that Peter was all too familiar with. The lecture pose. “So, we going to talk about it?”

Peter opened his mouth, words spewing out before he could stop them, “It was Jessica!” Okay, Jones probably wouldn’t appreciate him throwing her under the bus. But luckily they were both strong enough to lift the bus. Which sort of equaled out, right? And she had told him hecould use her as an alibi if absolutely necessary.

This felt like it was necessary.

“Jessica? I’m sorry, please tell me that isn’t some friend from school?” Mr. Stark actually looked horrified at the thought.

“What, no! Jessica Jones. She’s… Matt’s friend?” Sort of.

Lecture pose shifted into angry. He didn’t shout, but his voice was sharp so it had the same effect of making Peter sheepishly look down. “You’re telling me that Murdock got you into this mess?”

“No,” he answered, quick to defend Matt. “I mean, I just met her through him. She’s strong. Like me. SHIELD was keeping a surveillance file on her. She just wanted to see what they had.”

“And?” Tony waved for Peter to continue. “What did they have?”

It took everything Peter had not to shrug as he mumbled, “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Finally they had reached exacerbated Tony. “ When people ask you do to illegal things, you get all the info. I don’t care about the defenders _bro-code_ or whatever. I care about you. Honestly, avoid doing illegal things.”

“I sort of do illegal things as Spiderman.” As Jessica had rightly pointed out to him. “All the time.”

“I don’t need a reminder.”

That seemed to be the end of that. Peter breathed another sigh of relief when Tony turned back to the fridge, rummaging to find them a quick lunch. He watched him, closer than normal, picking up on those slight mannerisms that he’d missed before.

Mr. Stark was always moving. An anxious energy running through him.

Peter felt that most of the time too. Maybe it was the mark of genius, a sort of expression of their brains that were in constant motion.

They fell into a rhythm together, working in the lab as they installed the new upgrade that Tony had made. Peter often caught his thoughts drifting towards the hypothetical. Was this something they would do if _his father_ knew the truth. Would _his father_ help him do suit upgrades or would he tell him to worry more about school, prepare to take over one day for the company? God… thinking of him that way was weird.

Every now and then he would find himself staring, as if it was the first time he’d seen Mr. Stark.

Would it bo so bad if he knew?

He’d been struggling with it for two weeks now, wondering if this was something that was best buried. Ned had suggested he tell Tony, that the truth was always the best route. Matt had said it was up to Peter and that he should think long and hard before deciding. Jessica recommended never saying anything and living life without those kinds of ties.

Peter felt selfish for hiding it, but it felt wrong to put this on Mr. Stark now. The accords were just now fixed. The avengers were living together. Peter could be a…. Complication.

A beep sounded above them, Friday’s alert of an outside message. Both Tony and Peter stopped working on the suit. “What do you got for me, Fri?”

_“Miss Romanov has requested to see you. She wanted to remind you that Rogers is overdue for a face to face check-in.”_

Tony released a harsh four-letter word, followed by, “Sorry, Kid. Gotta take this one.”

Peter jumped up off the seat, bouncing excitedly on his heels. “Can I go?”

He looked like he wanted to say _No._ Tony hesitated by the door, one brow raised in concern as he thought it over. His fingers tapped against his leg. After a long moment he released that tell-tale sigh that was as good as saying _Don’t make me regret this._

“Fine.”

Tony locked up the suit and closed up all the Spiderman files. Though Peter was officially registered, they were still making an effort to keep his identity a secret. And Tony was pretty good at OPSEC details. It wouldn’t take Natasha long to put two an two together if they left out any breadcrumbs.

The rest of the avengers were on the other side of the primary building. There were rooms at each end, but Mr. Stark had made the divide very clear. Barnes, Natasha, Rogers, and Wilson lived on one side. Rhodes, Vision, and Peter had a room on _Tony’s_ side.

FRIDAY was lighting up the path to Steve Rogers current location. It didn’t lead them to the dorms, but instead took them to the larger of the two gyms. Peter had been to it once before, when Tony had assessed his powers. Each of the team had their own section for specific training regiments.

Before stepping inside Peter could hear the sound of feet dancing on mats and the heavy breathing of a workout well accomplished. He rushed a little ahead of Tony when he heard the distinct noise of someone getting punched.

“Stop leaving yourself open, Rogers.” Natasha, the Black Widow, was in a boxing ring with Steve, Captain America, Rogers. Though Peter himself had fought them, he still stumbled at the sight.

His sudden entry into the room had the two avengers turning his, and Tony’s, way.

Mr. Stark’s hand clapped onto his shoulder, a very gentle and steadying grip. “Easy, Kid.” Then his mentor’s eyes narrowed on Rogers.” Steve.” The way the name came out wasn’t as friendly as the first name implied.

“Hey Tony.” Mr. Stark just gave a hum in response, eyes drifting over to Natasha.

She wasn’t look at him though, her gaze settled on Peter. “Hello again, Peter.”

“Hi, uh, Miss Ro-“ Peter broke off when she gave an amused smiled, “Natasha.”

Natasha and Steve made their way out of the ring. Peter glanced over at Rogers to see him give occasional glances his way. It was clear he didn’t want to stare, but was curious about Peter’s presence in the compound. It seemed like Natasha hadn’t talked about their meeting before.

“Hi. I’m Peter Parker.” Reflexively, Peter held out a hand.

“Steve Rogers.” Grip firm, he gave two solid shakes. A greeting between men.

 _Yeah I know, I stole your shield._ Best not mention that though.

“So, how do you know Tony?”

“He’s my intern.” Tony said it before Peter could even open his mouth to answer.

Peter nodded in agreement, “I’m his intern.”

“Great. Now you’ve met my intern. Intern meet Cap. Good show everyone.” Tony stepped forward, practically blocking the path between the two, and pulled out his phone. Whatever appeared on the screen, both Steve and Tony quickly signed with thumbprints.

A nervous energy came over Peter as he watched the subtle exchanges between the two.

The whole ordeal seemed forced, and a little sad to observe.

Natasha acted as some sort of glue, gently bouncing between Steve and Tony, talking in a soft voice about the rest of the week and planned training. She had some expectations of group exercises that Tony may, or may not, be a part of.Peter had a feeling that Mr. Stark would rather eat dirt than spend any extra time in Mr. Roger’s presence.

After a few minutesthey concluded their business, an awkward silence threatening to settle in before Natasha asked, “Have you been given a tour of the gym?” Without waiting for his answer, she had him by the arm, moving him with ease towards the first set of workout machines.

“Is, uh, he good going all over the compound?” Peter heard Steve ask Tony.

“Kid’s fine.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“He goes to a STEM school. He’s a genius. Figured I would snag him before the competition.”

Whatever else Steve had to say was pushed to the back burner as Natasha showed Peter the rowing machine and the treadmill. He remembered them both being rated for Steve Rogers use. Then they walked further to the hand to hand combat training center. It held the ring that they had been in initially. As well as punching bags, strike mats, and training dummies. Peter drifted to them without thinking twice.

“You fight?” The way she asked it was probing. That light lilt to her voice that implied she already knew, despite that being unlikely. Interrogation tactics, Peter imagined.

“Uh…”

Peter was saved when Tony headed their way and answered, “He’s had some self defense training.”

“Oh?” Natasha tilted her head, feigning confusing. Peter recognized it as fake because she certainly wouldn’t be surprised by anyone learning to defend themselves. Heck, she was a prime candidate for the PSA.

“He wanted to learn so I got him a teacher.” Pride. Tony clapped his hand on Peter’s shoulder once more.

“Well, if you ever want a refresher then I’d be willing.” She winked at him, her mouth moving into that increasingly familiar amused smile. “Don’t let Tony talk you out of it. I’ve worked with all skill levels.” No one could talk him out of being trained by the Black Widow. No one.

Peter was rapidly nodding while Tony shook his head.

“Not a good idea.”

Peter was quick to argue, “It’s alright, Mr. Stark.” This was once in a lifetime. Ned was gonna freak. “Oh, before I forget.” Peter pulled a phone out of his pocket. “Quick picture with me?”

“Picture. Then I see what you’ve learned.” Peter ended up having to do a selfie since Mr. Stark was glaring at him, his displeasure at the whole idea clear on his face. Whether he was mad about the photo op or the quick lesson from Natasha, Peter wasn’t sure. Okay, he knew which one it was.

Then they were on the sparring mats facing one another.

“So, what did this instructor go over?”

Peter tried to ignore Tony, who was mouthing about how this was a bad idea and the kid should make better choices. And though the man might be his father, he wasn’t an absolute authority to be obeyed. Mentor for sure. Friend maybe. At the end of the day Mr. Stark didn’t get to decide what choices Peter made.

“Um, first rule is to run away if possible?” That seemed like sage self defense advice. Spiderman had given it a hundred times!

“Absolutely. And if you can’t run away?”

“You fight?”

“Exactly. So, let’s find out what you know?”

She moved slow, setting herself up as though she had a knife in her hand, fist in a fake grip around air. Natasha stood in front of Peter then made a jab his way. _Slowly._ Peter tried to react in kind, one hand catching her wrist while the other slid down the arm to hit her thumb. If she’d been holding something then her grip would have been broken by the technique. Well, if he was using any sort of strength anyway. Right now they both went through the motions of the disarming.

Taking a short break, Natasha looked over her shoulder to ask, “Hey Steve, could you get the demo weapons?”

He looked concerned by the request, but did it anyway, jogging over to storage locker to pull out a small box. A moment later Natasha was armed with a plastic dummy knife and gun.

They did a little more knife work, again moving slowly and with minimal impact to one another. Natasha was certainly just testing him on knowledge.

Another quick disarm of the knife, but this time Peter managed to slip it into his hand. Matt had not neglected Peter when it came to fighting someone with a weapon, a problem that Daredevil was faced with all too often.

Guns were also on that list.

As soon as the knife was in his hand, she pulled out the dummy gun.

Peter reacted like it was as easy as breathing, hands flying up to tap her arm on each side, once near the wrist and once near the elbow. Immediately, she dropped the gun and Peter was left staring at her.

It had happened in a fraction of a second.

To fast for someone who just knew a little self defense.

Natasha’s head tilted, a quick assessing looksettling on her face. Then she leaned back, body twisting so her foot could find purchase against his knee. Peter reflexively caught it, but released it a moment later, just long enough for her to know the truth.

Peter didn’t know self defense.

“You know how to fight.”


	16. Chapter 16

The boy was hiding something. Natasha could sense it the moment she met him. Normal people just didn’t get drawn into their world. So she watched him, observed him from afar as she did most of the unknown. The logs had shown his name and it was easy enough to get his records after that. All the paperwork pointed towards the boy being Tony’s intern.

It was all too clean.

She didn’t register him as dangerous though. Just this unknown that was orbiting Tony. Which meant that using him could be in the cards.

Tony was still… fragile, their alliance tenuous. Befriending Peter could be her ticket to Tony letting down those walls. And if she discovered any secrets along the way she was happy to offer them up to Tony as an olive branch.

So when she saw him the second time, which she would deny having any part of that particular set-up, Natasha sought to endear herself to him. She could see the lean muscles on his arms, subtle indications that he kept himself physically fit, especially so for his age.

She directedhim to the exercise equipment, watched his expression as his eyes drifted across the machines. When his reaction gave nothing away, she guided him towards the combat area. This was something he knew. This was something he _liked._

Peter gave a slight grin and started walking towards the mats. Natasha asked about it. Natasha watched Tony frown and shake his head. There was something there. Some kind of warning…

Naturally, she coaxed him into demonstrating his knowledge. He disarmed her knives, basic movements anyone could learn.

It was Peter’s response to the gun that had been unexpected. Natasha had thought to throw him off, but Peter had acted with well-honed instinct. Fast. Agile. Perfectly. Someone had taught him more than self defense. Natasha could sense it in his movements, the shift in his gaze when he recognized a weapon and took it out of the picture. Immediate, without hesitation.

 _Assess._ She dropped back, attempting a quick sweep to his knee, but she never made contact there. Instead Peter had caught her ankle in his palm. He dropped it just as fast, looking stunned that he had done such a thing.

_Why is he hiding?_

“You know how to fight.”

Natasha braved a quick glance at Tony, cataloging the frown still on his face, the concerned lines next to his eyes. His jaw was clenched tight, ticking slightly under the skin. It was clear that he was displeased by Peter’s actions. He was… _scared_ for the boy?

 _Assess_. Her training demanded.

So she obeyed.

Natasha went to strike Peter with her elbow, a quick hit to the ribs as she spun around. His palm hit her first, shifting her momentum so she was forced to sidestep him. In the same movement, Natasha opened her hands and quickly gripped his wrist and shoulder, tucking him down into a standing arm lock, forcing him to bend at the waist.

His muscles tensed, refusing to budge as she tried to push the joints into unnatural, and slightly painful, positions. Peter wasn’t just unnaturally fast. He was unnaturally strong too. He bent his elbow, able to draw his arm out of the arm-bar with ease. Then he bunched up his legs and flipped, quickly ripping himself from her grip.

Natasha followed his form with her eyes, then drew back her leg and aimed a kick at his stomach. In midair, the boy caught her ankle. When he landed, Peter gave it a quick twist and forced her into an airborne spin.

After landing back on her feet, Natasha was surprised to feel a smile forming on her face. She couldn’t recall having an opponent this clever in some time. Maybe not since Bucky Barnes. The whole ordeal only took a few minutes, just long enough for Natasha to confirm that Peter would be an excellent sparring partner in the future. Possibly a teammate.

“Who taught you?” she asked, keeping her tone soft and coaxing. Peter’s gaze drifts past her, to land somewhere behind her. Natasha doesn’t need to turn to know that he’s looking to Tony for assurance… or permission.

“Uh, a friend.”

“Tell you friend that I’m impressed.” Peter had been using multiple styles during the fight, shifting with ease between them. Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. Aikido. And Capoeira. The latter was fairly unique, but perfect for someone who excelled in acrobatics.

“I’ll pass it along.”

Before Peter could say anything further, Natasha heard Steve announce, surprise tinting his voice, “You’re Queens.”

There was an almost pained grunt coming from Tony’s direction, “Well, I guess the feral cat is out of the bag.” Natasha felt like she was missing something. Tony had a hand on his forehead, looking exacerbated. It was a familiar look on him these days.

“Queens?” Natasha asked, tilting her head to look between Steve and Peter. The two were staring at one another, practically sizing one another up. From what she had looked into the boy was indeed from the Queens borough.

“From Germany.” Steve answered, voice and words tight with anger. Natasha mentally went through the fight at the airport, recalling the hero that Tony had brought with him last minute. An addition that was solely support. “Tony, he’s a-“

“Kid? Yes, I know.” Gone was the exacerbation, replaced with crossed arms and a defensive posture. Tony shifted forward a little, stepping between Steve and Peter.“A kid who happens to be stronger than you. Heals faster than you. And, let’s be real, he’s a hell of a lot smarter than you, too. And he’s _mine_ so don’t do anything that could hurt him or I’ll make Siberia look like playtime.”

Natasha felt a little offended by the implication, “No one isgoing to hurt him, Tony.”

Tony sent a glare her way, “You just tried to break his kneecap and his arm.” Semantics.

“By now you should trust that I know my own strength and skill.”

Before he could say anything else snarky, Peter stepped forward to interrupt, “I’m fine, Mr. Stark.” The teen let out a sight and slipped his hands into his pockets. With his head slightly hunched he looked far less confident than he had just moments ago. Still, he announced, “And yes, I’m… I’m the guy from Queens. I’m Spiderman.”

For some reason Peter remained hesitant and unsure. So Natasha slid up to next to him and gently touched his shoulder. “You must be something special if Tony wanted you on his side.” The boy’s spine straightened a little more, pride in his posture. 

“He is.” Then Tony waved Peter over to him, retrieving his intern from the rogues, “We just need to work on his secret keeping.” A very gentle grin appeared on Tony’s face, softening the reprimand. When the boy was within touching distance of Tony, the man put his arm across his shoulders. Familiar. Fatherly.

Peter, on the other hand, was feeling guilty about something. It was a brief flash of contrition, but Natasha caught it anyway, filing it away for later investigation. Tony’s mouth moved, but his voice was too low for Natasha to pick out the words. Peter, on the other hand, nodded to whatever the man was saying. Then he turned to waved at her and Steve. “Sorry to, uh, drop that on you and run, but we have…. lab stuff.”

The two geniuses were gone, leaving Natasha and Steve alone again.

“Am I the only one upset that Tony brought a child into our fight?” Leave it to Steve to try and find some moral high ground in this sea of hills.

Natasha shook her head, turning her back on Steve as she started picking up her equipment and doing a post workout clean up. “As Tony said, that child is stronger than you. I’m actually glad he found Peter before someone else.”

“From what I remember from Germany, he did have some raw talent.” She didn’t remember much of the red suited hero. Most of her time had been spent dealing with Barton, and then switching sides in a rough attempt at keeping the team from fracturing further. So much for that effort…

Natasha thought of the young hero now and how well he had held himself during their short spar. “It’s not so raw anymore.”

No. She picked up more subtle signs of his refined talents. An occasional glimpse of him on the treadmill, running at Roger’s level speeds. Once she caught him doing flips in the kitchen, bouncing between the island and the furniture. Another time she found him juggling with knives that were suspiciously like her own set.

It was another two days before they spoke again, this time on his terms. Natasha had already worked up a heavy sweat on the rowing machine.

A head of brown hair peeked around the door of the gym, giving the room a quick once over before stepping inside. This time they were alone. She noted that he was wearing a pair of light sweatpants and a Stark Industries t-shirt. Perfect for training.

She slid off the rowing machine and met him halfway.

“I’ve, uh, only got one day left before I go home. I was thinking we could… I mean, you train with the others so…” The boy trailed off, a hand flicking towards her then back towards himself.

Natasha unconsciously flexed her shoulders, then rolled them. “You do know that I won’t go easy on you, right? And you can’t let Tony yell at me when you get a black eye.” The teen’s eager nod had her smiling. “How do you normally spar?”

Peter turned and waved a hands towards the boxing ring. “Me and Matt usually fight in a ring.”

“Hmmm. I’m guessing he’s not as acrobatic as you?” Peter shook his head.

Instead of the ring, Natasha led them to the sparring mats. It was her preferred place for training as it allowed more room to maneuver. Even with the extra space, there was a chance that the two of them would end up off the mats anyway.

“So, now that the truth is out there, is it safe to ask if you’ve registered?”

Peter’s head snapped up, just quick enough for him to see a fist aimed at his face. He ducked under it, stepped close against her, and attempted to brace her for a throw. But Natasha was fluid, a well honed weapon in her own right. She danced across his hip, tucked her arm under his opposing shoulder and sent him flying to the ground with a resounding thud. He quickly rolled to his back, staring up with wide eyes.

“You don’t fight like Matt.” He rightfully assessed.

“I don’t fight like anyone, Peter.” Natasha grinned.

“And yeah, I registered.”

They were back on their feet, dancing again. Peter was a fast learner, able to pick up her tactics and perform them, though they were a little rough. He attempted her cross throw, but she was able to land on her feet with ease.

With him she didn’t have to hold back. Natasha used a thigh hold on his neck and brought her elbow down on his humerus. He grunted at the impact and dropped to a knee, cradling the limb when she released him. “What’s up with women trying to break my arms?”

“They are your most dangerous assets,” Natasha responded with a laugh before attempting to kick Peter in the head. He jerked back, her foot narrowly missing him. “So, what other women have you fought?”

From his crouched position, Peter jumped forward to tackle her. “Mainly just Jones. She’s crazy strong.”

Natasha dove under him, trying to hit his gut with her palm. He slapped her hand away. “Like you?”

“A little.” She went to kick his thigh, missed again, and then jumped forward to elbow his chest.

“And your trainer? Is he strong?” Peter had a sixth sense, a sort of warning. It took her a few test tries before she was able to verify it, but once she knew Natasha switched up her attacks.

“No. Well, kind of. He has his own thing.”

Distracting him helped. Whether with a mock punch or conversation.

“Does he get along well with Tony?” That question had Peter going still for a second. Long enough for her to get a punch in, the first real strike. Peter placed a hand against the side of his face, as if stunned. Natasha ignored it, “Well?”

Peter dropped his hand, went to punch her back. His form was perfect, he had been taught well. “Oh, they don’t really agree on a lot. But they both want the best for me. I think they appreciate that…”

“That’s good. Having people on your side.” Natasha shifted between interrogation mode and therapy mode. Both seemed pretty effective on the teen.

“Yeah. I’ve met a lot of new people this year. It’s helped with the… Spiderman stuff.”

“If Tony trusts you, then I trust you.” Peter stumbled again, allowing Natasha to land a kick against his knee. It was a hard impact and a resounding crack had her coming to a stop.

Peter grunted and moved his leg, testing the joint. After a moment he nodded, “Not broken. Let’s keep going.”

“You’re too distracted.”

One of his brows went up, “I thought you wanted me a little distracted.”

“A little is fine. You’re staring off into space, asking to be hit again.” As if making an example, Natasha managed to lightly slap him on the face, “I’d say you want the punishment.”

Peter remained silent.

Natasha mirrored him. Waited.

He broke first, whispering, “I don’t. I just… I’m glad Mr. Stark trusts me. I… sometimes I don’t know why. I’ve screwed up so many times.”

“As Spiderman? Or as Peter?”

He met her gaze and shrugged, “Both.”

“Whatever it is, he’ll understand. I think he thinks of you as his own.” Peter laughed at that, a sort of barking laugh that was slightly manic. Natasha tilted her head, curious. _That’s odd._ She filed away the behavior for later.

Shaking his head, Peter managed, “Sorry. That was… kind of funny. I’m a poor orphan kid from queens. Kind of sounds like a cheesy movie plot or something.”

Then he straightened up, turned back to face her. Form the look on his face she could see he was ready to spar again. Natasha decided to drop the questions for now and just focus on his fighting style. Anything else could be addressed at another time.

They traded blows, though hers landed more often. Peter was holding back with each impact, seemly cautious of his own strength. Natasha, having been on the receiving end of Steve Roger’s, could appreciate that. Though she did want to force him into using his reflexes more as that would hone her own skills.

Having to work around Peter’s sixth sense was interesting. Without using words as a distraction, Natasha had to rely on feigns and the occasional one-two-three combo. Peter was exception at dodging, but less used to having someone in his personal space, using his own moves against him.

While he went to punch her, she used the extended arm against him.

It wasn’t until he starting _sticking_ to her that things got more complicated.

Peter had a palm against her back, a palm that wouldn’t budge. So Natasha used it as an anchor to draw him in. He couldn’t dodge her strikes if he didn’t let go. She punched him square in the nose.

And then he _threw_ her.

Which was different.

It wasn’t a body throw to the ground. It was sailing through the air, haphazardly and with no directional control.

Natasha braced for the landing, tucking into a fetal position and closing her eyes. She also clenched her jaw so it wouldn’t be snapped shut by the impact.

An impact that was a lot softer than she had expected. A pair of arms caught her, tucking down so the sudden inertia stop wasn’t as jarring. Natasha’s eyes opened to see that Peter was panting, still crouched as he had one hand on her shoulder, the other tucked under her knees.

“Woah! I didn’t think you’d go that far! I don’t normally throw people. Or stick to them.” He set her gently to the ground, practically bouncing with excited energy. He could go from zero to a hundred in a second flat. “Sorry. You okay?”

“I’m fine.” Natasha took a moment to _assess,_ a quick check of her limbs and movement. Yeah, she was fine. She gave him a quick once over as well, wincing when she noticed that his nose was bleeding and the bruising around his eye had settled. At her cringe, Peter went to wipe away some of the blood with his sleeve.

“Oh, it’ll be good as new in a couple of hours,” Peter reassured her. Tony was right, that healing was faster than Rogers’. Even the bruise was approaching that sickly purple and yellow stage.

Overall it seemed to be a solid end to a good fight.

She hoped to be able to repeat the training next time he was at the compound.

As if fate was aware that she was resting, Natasha received a notification on her phone. Giving Peter a brief hold-on sign, she pulled up the message. It was related to the break-in assignment. SHIELD had completed the inventory check of the records room. The weeks long delay meant they had done the check manually. They knew which files were missing.

Jessica Jones, surveillance files.

Mary Fitzpatrick, SHIELD agent, records.

And Katherine Shane, SHIELD agent, records.


	17. Chapter 17

Peter sat on the floor of his bedroom, opposite of Ned, as they pushed aside various lego pieces. They had been long overdue for something simple, so right after Peter had gotten home, they scheduled a binge session of Star Wars while putting together an Imperial Star Destroyer.

“It’s gonna take _months_ to finish this,” Ned had commented when he saw the box, practically drooling as he delicately touched it. “Did Mr. Stark get it for you?”

“I’m pretty sure he just told FRIDAY to order some things and she picked it out. I don’t think Mr. Stark has even seen Star Wars.” Or maybe it was a running joke now that he never got Peter’s references. It was hard to tell when he was being sarcastic sometimes or when he was just being old.

“There’s some irony there.” Ned dropped his voice, hand covering his mouth as he breathed heavily, “Peter, I am your father.”

Peter gave a weak laugh, “I guess. I’m trying not to think about it.” He really was. After his last visit Peter felt burned out on trying to live up to the mature teen who is a hero image. This was his last few weeks before the end of summer break. No science. No Spiderman stuff. Just Ned and him working on legos.

He snapped several gray pieces together, voicing some of the lines from the movie going in the background. Ned was handing him more, looking between the legos, Peter, and the instructions. After a few minutes of them managing a thruster, Ned asked, “Well if we’re not talking about Mr. Stark and the parent thing, does that mean we’re not talking about The Black Widow either?”

Ned relayed that when he’d received the picture from Peter, he’d nearly fainted. Then Peter told him about the sparring match he’d had the day before he left. “So you actually caught her? Like, held her body.”

“Yep. I was worried I wouldn’t get to her in time, but,” Peter motioned with his hand, imitating sailing through the air, “Made it!”

“Think I could go next time?!” A smile formed at the thought of Ned fainting as he met Natasha or Steve.

“I’ll have to ask. I think Mr. Stark would be alright with it. He did say he wanted me to have more to do while I’m there.” Peter tapped the lego box as if to highlight an example. There were several more boxes like it tucked under his bed at the compound.

Ned shifted around, seemingly impatient to speak. Peter recognized that his friend was trying to hold in his thoughts, but would soon fail. As if on cue, Ned sighed and let the words rush out, “Okay, I’m sorry, we have to talk about it.” Peter huffed and set down the legos, finally turning to stare at Ned. “He’s your father.”

“I know.”

“Dude, I don’t think you’re _really_ processing it. Tony Stark, Ironman, is your biological dad. You’re Spiderman. Don’t you think fate is saying something? Like embrace your weird life?”

“I _am_ embracing it! I embraced it when I registered. But Mr. Stark doesn’t need to know this. He’s happy right now. He has rough stuff to deal with, but at least he’s happy. Him and Pepper are good. Him and Rhodey are good. I even think he’s getting along with Natasha. What do you think happens when he learns that I’m his kid? He freaks out. What if Pepper doesn’t want a kid? Maybe he wants custody. I have to leave May here? I have to leave you? No… maybe when I’m 18. When I’m not…. When they won’t worry about that kind of stuff.”

“Do you think he will be mad that you didn’t tell him?” Yeah. Tony would be mad. But more so at himself. Another thing that Peter didn’t want to put him through.

Peter just shook his head, “He’ll give me the whole, _‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’_ thing.”

There was another long pause before Ned asked, “You think of telling May?”

“Yeah, I thought about it. But if I tell her then she’ll want to tell Mr. Stark.” Peter felt just as guilty about that as he did about the other lies. Ned nodded, now content with his answers. 

They went back tobuilding, focused on a task that was simple and had a true end goal. In the background Han Solo was shouting as he was being tortured by the Imperial army. Peter winced at the screams. He snapped another set of pieces together, pleased to see the progress of the thruster expanding.

Simple.

Peter managed to get a good 30 minutes of silence between the next interruption came in the form of a knock on his bedroom door. His aunt leaned in a moment later, glaring at the mess on the floor. “I swear if I step on another lego, I’m enforcing a ban.” The smile on her face contradicted the threat in her words. “Also, pizza is here.”

The boys dropped their pieces, scrambling after her and into the kitchen.

While Peter was busy shoving a slice of pepperoni pizza in his mouth, Aunt May sat across from him, a contemplating look on her face as she glanced his way. “Tony wants you to have more clothes at the compound. He said you spent most of your time there wearing SI promo shirts. And, I quote, “that NASA shirt that has seen some better days.” I’m inclined to agree.”

Peter almost snorted, “Mr. Stark is one to talk. He has oil stains on every tee he owns.” Plus on a few suits. And on slacks. Mr. Stark pretty much had oil on all his clothes.

“Well, he wants you to have your own stuff there. I think he intends for you to come over on a regular basis. Have your own space.” What was it that Tony had said on the phone? Joint custody style? God, this was weird.

“So weird.” Ned muttered in agreement, making Peter realize he’d said that out loud.

“I mean, it’s not that weird, right? You just happen to have an avengers-type internship with Tony Stark, who happens to like you, and has no one else to spent all his money on. Like Daddy Warbucks.” Aunt May laughed at her own joke. Which had Peter laughing. And then Ned followed. When she was able to compose herself, she admitted, “Okay, it’s a little weird. But my kid has superpowers where he sticks to the walls. Weird is just a part of the package these days.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but, uh, how much did he give us?” Peter tucked his head down, a little embarrassed that he’d asked, but still wanting to know anyway. 

“Um, Tony’s apparently a touch disconnected when it comes to that. Let’s just say we talked about the clothes budget and it’s a non issue.” Then she added, “Forever.” That was probably true. Once Peter asked for some cash to pay for food delivery and Tony had given him two hundred dollar bills. It was food from Taco Bell. For two people.

Peter polished off a few more slices, thoughts running wild. It was strange how he couldn’t escape it and was constantly dragged back into the orbit that was Tony Stark. So much of his young life had been spent idolizing him, raising him on this platform outside of reach. He wanted a simple night building with legos, Ned talked about Tony. He wanted to eat pizza, May talked about Tony. He wanted to be normal, but he was the son of Tony.

Something heavy settled in his stomach. That mix of guilt and fear. Peter set down the slice of pizza in his hand and closed his eyes. Two paths remained before him. One filled with constant omissions, denials, and lies. The other, rocky and unknown, but coated in truth.

If the didn’t tell her then he’d look at his Aunt and always think about the divide between them. About the divide _he_ put there. She didn’t deserve it, this lie he was spinning her. She accepted him as Spiderman. She was due the truth, right?

He inhaled, squeezed his eyes shut even further, like it would block out the rest of the world for this singular moment.

“Tony Stark is my father.”

Instant regret filled him at breaking the single rule he’d put in place. Don’t tell Tony. That meant not telling May.

_Fuck._

Ned started choking, hacking up some cheese pizza as he coughed. May reflexively started tapping hard on Ned’s back. Peter could hear the airflow return so he remained seated at the table, paralyzed by the words that had come from his own mouth.

_Is this what processing looks like?_

“Tony Stark is my biological father.” Peter repeated, staring down at the wood grain of the table. He slid a hand against it, wiping a wet palm on the stained surface. He took a deep breath, turned his head, and faced his Aunt. Who wasn’t really his Aunt. But she loved him anyway so what did biology or marriage matter in the end?

She didn’t laugh, didn’t find his statement to be a joke of any kind, she simply looked at him with a long confused gaze before managing to ask, “What?”

“We found out two weeks ago.” Peter grimaced at her stunned expression. At his other side, Ned appeared terrified.

“We?” May practically squeaked.

“Me. Ned. Matt. Jessica.” The story flowed from him. The registration, which she was more than pissed about. His trip to DC. He was totally grounded. For at least the rest of summer. He told her how he discovered the two files and the swapped records. Peter showed her the records, laid them out on the table. Ned remained quiet on the couch, only jumping in to add more to the story. To remind May that Peter hadn’t been alone, but was worried about losing the only family he had. “So, I put in his name and the system accepted it.” Hisvoice broke, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you.”

Everything spilled, his fears, the expectations…

May’s tone was firm, solid, and soft all at once. Her hand slid to the nape of his neck, a comforting strong hold of support, “Peter, there is _nothing_ in the world that can take you from me. Your father can be the richest man in the world. One of the strongest. But he could never take you from me. I love you and you’re stuck with me for as long as you want to be.”

May pulled him into a hug, arms tight around him. Another set of arms joined after a few seconds. Ned firmly added, “And he can’t take you away from me, either.” He didn’t cry, but Peter felt the burning behind his eyes that threatened it.

“Thanks.” A weight in his chest lifted, just a tiny portion, but enough where he felt he could breath. Again, he murmured to them both, “Thanks.”

They remained like that for only a little bit longer before May stepped away to take a seat back at the table. Ned and Peter followed. “So. You’re certain about this?”

“Yeah,” Peter said with a nod, “It all fits.”

“Okay. Okay.” May tapped the table, then folded her hands in front of her face. For a moment she just closed her eyes, thinking through whatever problem was in her head. After a few long beats, May put her hands back down and met Peter’s gaze. “We have to tell him.”

“But-“

“No _buts_. Tony deserves to know. No matter what you feel about what could happen, the end is still the same. He should know that you’re his child. And we should get a DNA test. Just in case.” She pulled out her phone and Peter instinctively reached out to stop her.

“Please. Can we wait? Just… a few days.”

“Pete, the longer we wait, the harder it will be. Look at you now, you’ve been dealing with this for weeks.” She placed a hand on his cheek. Gentle, kind.“You’re stressing. Do you really want to spend the rest of your summer like that? The rest of high school? This truth isn’t going to be buried.” Aunt May reasoned with him, tugging at the part of Peter that felt like a child. She was his guardian, the one who took care of him when no one else was there. Who else would know what to do, but the woman who was in essence his mom?

She turned around, said something to Ned. Peter probably could have listened in, but he was too lost in his own head. He jumped at the sound of the door closing. It must have been a few minutes because May had put away the pizza and Ned was gone.

Peter spotted her phone on the table, reached for it. A quick thumbing through it showed she hadn’t made the call yet, hadn’t sent a text.He felt himself sigh before standing up, walking the few feet to where she was. Then he handed her the phone and nodded. “Alright. I’m ready.” _Lie._

Two loud knocks sounded on the door, startling them both. Peter reached out and clutched his Aunt’s arm, suddenly unable to find the courage. He knew what was on the other side of the door, could hear the very light hum of the nano-containment unit. His eyes went wide and his throat constricted.

“Who is it?” May called out, already walking that way. Peter’s hand slipped off her arm, unwilling to hurt her with accidental strength.

“It’s Tony.” Peter said from behind her, simultaneous to the man’s announcement on the other side of the door.

Peter met his Aunt’s startled glance, but she quickly schooled her expression and stated, “Okay. This is fine. We can do this.”

With a rapid of shake of his head, Peter argued, voice a high whisper, “No. No. No. I can’t do this.”

“Peter. You can. You will.”

“Why’s he even here?!” Peter hissed in confusion. May shook her head, but didn’t answer.

Two more knocks. _“Kid? May?”_ Tony’s muffled question barely registered.

Firmly aware that his life would never be the same, Peter watched as his Aunt unlocked and opened the door, revealing one pissed-off Tony Stark.

———————————————

He sequestered himself in the lab following Peter’s departure. It was likely that he wouldn’t see the kid again for another month or so, at least not before school started back. Tony tried not to dwell on how that little fact made that emptiness in his stomach widen. As Pepper was in Japan for another week, he was back to being by himself for a while. It seemed like a good opportunity to re-evaluate the Armory and start with the nano-tech upgrades.

He would focus on Natasha’s first, as she was practically off the shit-list.

While he worked, Tony evaded calls from Ross concerning the NY Sanctum. They were probably both in reference to Wanda and the last he had heard of the scarlet witch was that she was just fine. With Vision and Strange. Ross could go himself if he was so worried.

He was in the middle of snapping together a new widow bite containment system when the Widow herself stepped into the lab. Tony didn’t bother to turn around, simply let her walk up to the workbench and look over his shoulder.

“Beautiful.” Natasha murmured. She was always one of the few who complimented his work and Tony couldn’t help but hold the device up in a proud display.

“Just a prototype. But this sucker can go up to 10 milli-amps. If we do a bypass it could kill someone.” Lesson number one with shock weapons. It’s not the volts that will get you. It’s the amps.

He set the device back down against the table and tried to ignore her as she paced around him, lithe and patient. He could tell that she wanted to talk to him about something, but he had a sinking feeling in his gut that whatever was going to come out of her mouth would end in disaster. She gave him a few minutes to put away his tools, kept wandering around the lab as he slowly set aside her weapons.

How he wished Pepper was home and not in Japan. How he wished Rhodey was visiting and not always wrapped up in military business.

Not this unknown that was almost a friend and almost an enemy. The woman who turned her back on him when he needed a united front.

“Alright. What is it?” Tony rolled his chair back and swiveled to face her, the center table situated between them.

She was already pushing a StarkPad in his direction, always aware how much he hated being handed things. Tony picked it up and read through the report update. Natasha’s response was still blank, which meant she hadn’t submitted to SHIELD what she already knew. He felt his jaw clench hard at the names.

Jessica Jones. He knew of her. The enhanced woman who’d went with Peter to the capital. Mary Fitzpatrick. Peter’s mother. Katherine Shane. He didn’t recognize that name. With a quick command he had FRIDAY do a quick scan for the name, but nothing came up. Paper records only it seemed.

Paper records that were currently in Peter’s possession.

Tony set the tablet down, tempted to go with nonchalant, but instead settled for a more neutral, “So, you know it was Peter.” It’s the only reason she would be coming to him. Tony latched onto that small olive branch and clutched it tight.

“I do. I understand why you didn’t tell me, why you chose to protect him.” He wondered if it was possible for her to understand the way he felt about the kid.

“I’ll always choose him.” The strength of his reply almost startled himself.

“We’re on the same side, Tony.” Again, his jaw ticked. The things he wanted to say would fracture them further. No… it was best if he bottled that down for now. When he didn’t respond, Natasha sighed and asked, “I’m guessing you had him here so you could ask him about the break-in?”

“I did.” Tony kept his word short, clipped. He didn’t like the idea of her knowing about Peter, but it was out there now. And she knew more about the break-in than she was letting on. Hell, when she walked in the room she had known more than Tony did.

“What did he tell you?” Her tone was soft. Not that interrogating version of her. The more concerned one. The real Nat.

Tony rubbed a hand against his face and admitted the truth. “He said it was Jones.”

She hummed, took back the tablet. “I won’t put it in the report that he was with her. I am going after Jones though. She should know that SHIELD is aware. I’ll see if she admits to going with Peter. If she doesn’t, we may have another ally on our side.”Leave it to Natasha to find a potential ally based on their ability to deceive.

“And I need to talk to Peter.” To ask him why. What was so important that the kid would lie to his face? As hard as his emotional armor was, that fact cut deep.

“Rogers and Wilson need to run an errand. We can take the Quinjet.” It seemed gratuitous to take the jet, but it would cut the ride down to just a quarter of the time. And a car was out of the question. The last thing Tony wanted was to be bumping elbows with Rogers for over an hour.

They were wheels up in twenty minutes, the three of them filing in while Natasha took her place in the pilot’s chair. “We’ll land on Stark Tower,” Natasha announced as she fired up the jet.

Tony tapped his housing unit, had FRIDAY run through a brief diagnostic. Surprisingly, it had been a while since he’d worn the suit for anything more than lab experiments. Soon he’d be using it to fly to Peter’s apartment.He had to be certain that FRIDAY could intercept any photo evidenceof the impending flight. The last thing he wanted was a paparazzi audience.

Rogers and Wilson made the wise decision to keep to their side of the quintet, muttering about whatever they planned to do in the city. Tony only engaged them once to remind them not to miss check-in.

Then they were in New York City, landing on Stark Tower.

“Got a plan?” Natasha asked as Tony finished unbuckling.

Plan? He had never been great at those. Okay, so he was great at plans, they just didn’t unravel the way his mind tended to picture sometimes. “Yeah. Go there. Ask the kid what the hell he was thinking. Find out what’s going on.”

“Take it easy on him, Tony.” She could sense his hurt and anger, though Tony wasn’t doing much to hide it at this point.

He snapped back at her, “You his keeper now?”

As usual, Natasha didn’t rise to the bait. “No. That job falls to you.” She gave him an estimated time for return, mentioned that she would send out a call if she needed an assist with Jones. Tony let her know he’d have his phone on standby. It surprised him how easy it was to cooperate with them all. Like they had once before…

But Tony couldn’t dwell on that. He had to talk to Peter. Had to confront the kid now before the betrayal burrowed any deeper. He couldn’t hide the frustration on his face, couldn’t help but feed into the anger. He’d put every ounce of trust he had left into that kid. And he’d lied.

Just like Rogers.

A quick flight and he was at their door, knocking harder than he should, but not quite caring. May called out, asking who it was.

“It’s Tony.”

She didn’t open the door immediately. That dragged on to another minute. Tony knocked again, “Kid? May?”

Another beat and he could hear the lock disengage before the door swung wide. His eye went to May first, taking in a slightly distressed appearance, most likely related to his sudden and unannounced arrival. Then they settled on Peter, gaze narrowing. The kid looked as innocent as always.

Innocent. Scared. Tony felt some of his anger evaporate as he stepped through the threshold, closing the door behind him. The apartment was quiet. Too quiet.

“Hello, Tony.” May greeted him, breaking the terse silence.

“May.” He greeted back. A beat passed. The kid looked between the two adults. He was unusually silent. Tony attributed that to guilt.

“You want some coffee?” May offered, already on her way to the kitchen. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

He wanted to stand. Wanted to pace. Wanted to be in his lab blowing up stuff.

Instead he sat at the table. “Do you know what Peter has been up to lately?”

“I know as much as he tells me.” That was a solid non-answer.

He gives her time to finish the coffee, waits as patiently as he knows how. As soon as he has a mug in his hand, he leans forward to begin.

“So, story time. Two weeks ago I was alerted to a break-in at a SHIELD facility in DC. Technically it was Romanoff who got the alert, but I was there and it’s sort of a Team building thing. Imagine my surprise when I see my own code being used to overwrite security camera footage. Naturally I figured out it was Peter,” Tony took a moment to stare at the Kid, watching as he looked towards the floor in shame. “So what do I do? I delete the still images that he failed to overwrite. I report back to SHIELD and Romanoff that I couldn’t break the code. All to protect a teenager who was helping a friend.”

“Mr. Stark, I-“

“No. Story time isn’t over. The Kid tells me he was helping a friend. I believe him. But then, Romanoff gets the inventory list of what was taken. Imagine my surprise when I see the file for Mary Fitzpatrick in that list. Suddenly its not just me who has to do a cover up. It’s Natasha, too. All because I didn’t get the heads up. All because you-“ Tony points a finger at Peter, “lied to me.”

“You don’t know-“ There were tears in the boy’s eyes, falling freely now. Self loathing threatened to overwhelm Tony, but he pushed it down, allowing his anger to take precedence.

“You’re right. I don’t know. So here I am, pissed off and hoping you have a damn good explanation.” A hand landed on his shoulder, a touch that he wanted to shrug off, but didn’t. Because it was May Parker. The woman who raised the boy that was supposed to be better than them all.

“Let him see the files, Peter.”

Peter nodded, used his sleeve to wipe his face. Then he went to the couch. Tony could see paperwork strewn out all over, a mess of things that had probably only been made tonight. Pieces were forming, slowly, but surely. A puzzle being framed in Tony’s mind.

He’d shown up unexpected, yet they hadn’t asked him why he was there. The kid was looking to his Aunt for guidance, which meant she knew whatever he was hiding.

“What did I walk into here?” He asked, but didn’t get answer.

Peter put down two accordion folders on the table in front of Tony. “I went there to get this.”

Katherine Shane.

Mary Fitzpatrick.

He opened Katherine’s file first, unable to resist unraveling the mystery. Her photo was front and center on the first page. He recognized the face. “Katy.” He muttered, old memories coming to the surface. Katy Sutherland, her assigned name, had worked for the Engineering department. She’d been clever, gorgeous, and damn good with a soldering iron. They didn’t exactly date, but taking someone out for dinner wasn’t a necessary precursor to end up in bed with them. Many times.

He recalled that she’d put in her resignation letter only a few months after working for the company, something about taking time off to find herself. Honestly, Tony wouldn’t be surprised that he’d thought she was just catching feelings and saving herself from heartache.

But according to the file he was reading she hadn’t caught feelings. She’d become pregnant.

That hand on his shoulder anchored him as he turned to read further.

Pregnant with a boy. Pulled from mission. A mission that centered around himself. Tony felt his blood rush through his ears, hands shaking as he pulled the next file forward. Mary Fitzpatrick. He thumbed to her medical records. Also pregnant. Another ultrasound. Katherine Shane. Died in child birth. No commentary on the boy. Where the _fuck_ did the child go?

“Where?” His voice sounded strangled, even to his own ears.

“I found out when HAWKS ran the blood analysis.” Peter whispered, answering a question that hadn’t yet been asked.

The words were fine, but they didn’t make any sense.

What was he saying?

“Tony, he’s yours.” What was she saying?

Katherine Shane. Died in childbirth. Katy Sutherland pregnant with _his_ kid.

Tony jerked Mary’s file forward. Same ultrasound. His eyes skimmed the notes. She’d been pregnant with a girl. But she hadn’t raised a girl.

She had raised Peter. Peter. Peter.

Peter. Who was the boy that Katherine Shane had given birth to.

_HAWKS ran the blood analysis._

Peter registered weeks ago.

The hand on his shoulder tightened, just enough to keep him from stumbling forward and out of the chair. Courtesy be damned, Tony shrugged May off of him and stepped towards the Kid.

The Kid.

_His Kid._

He turned to May, “How long have you known?”

“He told me less than an hour ago.” She was telling the truth. Tony could feel it in his gut. There was no guilt registering on her face.

He shifted around again, faced Peter. There was anger boiling again, deep within him. A terrifying anger. This time it was towards the people responsible for this. Who would keep a child from him? His own. He had never held Peter as an infant. Had missed birthdays. Holidays. Whose fault had it been? Anger. Bewilderment.

Awe.

“Mr. Stark, _please_ say something.” The plea in the kid’s voice had Tony moving.

His hands found purchase on the teen’s shoulders, clenched hard as he tried to right reality. Tony was well aware that he was a smart man, that he could conjure up a speech at the drop of a pin. But nothing came to him now. What do you say when you find out your kid was standing in front of you? When you trained them for the evils of the world? When you let them be a shield for humanity?

He was supposed to be Peter’s shield.

His hands clenched tighter, probably hard enough to leave bruises, but Tony found he couldn’t let go. He was certain that his mania was present in his expression. The boys face, innocent. Scared. Pieces came together. Peter hadn’t wanted to tell him. For whatever reason, he had felt unworthy? Had Tony not made it abundantly clear that the Kid was his already? That he would give _anything_ he had for him? Protect him. Teach him.

_Please say something._

Shit, he wanted to say _everything._

“Peter Stark.” He tested the name and felt the kid jerk back, startled. “Yeah. Yeah, that’ll get you into MIT. Not that you need help with that. Christ, do you even want to go to MIT? Who brought up college? May, we sending him to college?” Tony leaned back, let himself look at the kid’s face. Brown eyes stared back, wide, uncertain. Grown.

Pepper. He needed to call Pepper.

“I got to call Pepper. We need… lawyers. Like, three. Maybe. Four? Pepper’ll know.”

Words spewed forth, sounding like nonsensical ramblings. Someone touched his shoulder again, guided him over to the couch. A mug found it’s way into his hands and he automatically raised it to his lips for a quick sip. It wasn’t the coffee he was expecting, but rather a tea. Tony swirled the bitter liquid in his mouth, suddenly feeling more grounded. Calmed.

“Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s eyes snapped up to look at Peter. “ _Don’t_. Don’t call me that.”

Peter shifted, uneasy. “Uh, what else would I call you?”

“Tony? Hey You? Asshole? Take your pick.”

“O-kay. _Tony_.” God, the Kid looked even more uncomfortable. “It… it doesn’t have to change anything, you know. I’m still just Peter. Just your…. intern.”

How could he not know? Tony stared at him, voice shaky as he admitted a very un-Stark-like admission, “Kid, you were _never_ just an intern.”

Truer words had never been spoken.


	18. Chapter 18

Peter watched the analysis finish, already aware of what the results would confirm. They were currently on the 68th floor of Stark Tower, one of the dedicated R&D levels. It was the closest location with equipment to do a DNA test and Tony hadn’t even hesitated to throw his name out and clear the entire room.

 _“If you want a job tomorrow, get out. Now.”_ A dozen employees had evacuated as if their lives depended on it, which they very likely did. Tony quickly set out to secure the room electronically.

And now he, Tony, and May were seated around a table as the two blood samples finished. They had expected minor anomalies from Peter’s sample, of course, but Tony had already calculated for those. HAWKS must have done something similar with his own program.

The readings appeared and Tony gave a nod. “It’s a match.” He gave a sideways glance towards Peter, face soft even though the man wasn’t smiling. He looked… content? Peter smiled, just a small one in an attempt to give Tony reassurance.

Then Tony pulled out his phone, tapping on it with gentle force. Peter watched, aware that Tony was working through the situation one problem at a time and in no particular order. “Alright. Pepper is still in Japan. So I’ll wait for her to get back before breaking the news.”

The thought of Pepper finding out had Peter anxious. “Is she… is she going to be upset?”

“No. She’ll probably be ecstatic. Traitor likes you more. Says you’re “so polite” and “adorable”.”

“Tony,” May stepped forward, placed a hand on Tony’s upper arm in a display of increased familiarity. Peter noticed that he didn’t move away from the touch, “Peter wasn’t wrong before. You don’t have to suddenly take on this responsibility. Whatever relationship you have with Peter now doesn’t need to change.”

He met Peter’s waiting gaze. “We can’t be naive about this. It’s going to change. Maybe… maybe not in the way we expect, but it’ll change.”

“Mr. Stark-” Tony sent a quick glare Peter’s way and he instantly backtracked, “-I mean, Tony. Can we wait before doing anything?”

“I’m not going to uproot you, Kid.” There’s a brief flash of relief on May’s face, enough to tell Peter that she’d been at least a little worried about that. “You’re going to go to whatever school you want. You’ll stay with your Aunt, if you want. And you can still be Spiderman, if you want.” Tony turned his head away then, eyes focused on the table in front of him, on the equipment that just verified who they were to one another. “But, I’m not missing another Birthday, Christmas, or Graduation. I’ll be at your school events. You’ll be seen coming in and out of my home. I’ll be seen coming in and out of the apartment. It’s going to be news.”

“My birthday isn’t until next month.” It’s the only thing Peter could think of to mention, the first true timeline to form.

“Seventeen.” There was an underlying anger in Tony’s voice and Peter understood where it came from. Seventeen stolen years. His mentor’s hands clenched tight, knuckles turning white with untapped rage. Peter remembered feeling some of that when he first found out, but it had been quickly overshadowed by fear of the truth.

“We’ll celebrate at the compound this year.” May’s soft voice caused Peter to look up. He wasn’t the only one, either. Tony glanced her way, murmuring an equally soft thanks.

Two parents. Negotiating their child’s birthday. Peter felt the tiny desire to laugh, but just smiled instead. The details weren’t very important. Peter was certain that May and Tony could work those out. He was contemplating the possibility of having Ned stay with him next time, a fun sleepover that would blow his best friend’s mind, when the doors to the lab opened.

Peter shot to his feet just as Natasha strolled into the room, followed by Jessica Jones, Steve Rogers, and Sam Wilson. Jessica was sporting a black eye and had some dried blood on her lip. Natasha appeared to not have come out unscathed either, a shadow forming across her jaw.

Peter picked up another set of footsteps and a light tapping noise. A moment later Matt Murdock appeared in the lab, in his lawyer attire and wearing his glasses. With a flick of his wrist, he collapsed his cane and tucked it under his arm.

As usual, Tony broke the silence that had settled,“Well… this is unexpected.”

“Sorry to barge in. We would have waited at the Jet, but it’s windy as hell right now.” Sam Wilson. Peter gave him a brief once over, taking in his combat attire. He was wearing something similar to what Peter had seen him wear in Germany, minus his wings. The man looked from May to Tony to Peter, obvious confusion settling on his face, before he flicked a hand towards Peter. “Who’s Stark Jr?”

Jessica released a laugh, which drew several startled glances. She didn’t bother to explain, so Peter stepped forward. “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

“Or Peter Parker-Stark.” Tony shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but Peter could hear the very minute hitch in his voice. “We’re still working on that.”

“Seriously?” Wilson seemed unnerved by the very idea. Peter tried not to be offended.

Tony just ignored him and shifted his attention to Matt, “Who invited the lawyer?”

“Jones,” Matt replied, smiling in a way that was mildly uncomfortable, basically saying he wasn’t pleased to be there, but duty called.

“Okay. Avengers meet the, uh, what was it you guys wanted to be called again?”

“We’re not a team,” Jessica quickly piped in to argue. “We just so happen to work with each other. Sometimes. And not very well, so don’t get any ideas.”

Aunt May decided to move closer to the door, greeting one of the only people she had met so far, “Hello, Matt.”

“May. It’s good to see you.” This time Matt’s smile was genuine. Peter’s eyes widened in horror when Matt leaned in just a fraction to _smell_ her, a move his aunt wasn’t likely to notice. He quickly diverted his attention elsewhere, which happened to be in Sam Wilson’s direction. And by proxy, Steve Roger’s as well.

Steve eyed him back, as if trying to determine where they stood with one another.

“So, what brings you to the city?” It was a stupid question, but Peter asked it anyway, tucking his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from fidgeting.

Steve almost answered, but Sam interrupted, eyes narrowed as he glares and points a finger at Peter. “You’re the guy with the gimmick!”

Peter frowned at the accusation, “I mean, you were flying with wings, soo….”

“Those are military issue! Christ, what are you, twelve?”

“Sixteen.”

“Hey!” Jessica shouted, drawing everyone’s attention then. “I was told we’re going to the compound? This room is way too small for this shit.” It wasn’t, but Peter didn’t bother to correct her because she was already in a crappy mood and he didn’t feel like fighting her.

Instead they broke apart into various groups, each discussing their own agendas. Natasha, Matt, and Jessica intended to go to the compound and work out some potential team efforts. Since Jessica had committed a crime,this was SHIELD’s way of getting their due. Matt was called in for that legal favor and would help with the negotiations.

Sam and Steve apparently checked in with Wanda and Vision, who would be returning to the compound in a couple of weeks.

Peter felt out of place, but stayed back with May while Tony dealt with the Avengers and the newly named _Defenders_. His Aunt placed her arm around his shoulder, drawing him out of his own head and away from the other’s conversations.

“They’re not so intimidating anymore, are they?”

Peter waited a moment, thinking over her words. He’d sparred with more than half the group so far and if push came to shove he was pretty sure he’d come out on top. Peter pointed at Steve Rogers, “Yeah, that one will go down pretty fast if you go for the legs.” Sam Wilson next, “Without the wings, he’s not a threat.” Natasha, “She’s pretty terrifying. But super nice in a way.” Jessica, “All force, no finess.” Matt, “Fantastic teacher. Knows more fighting styles than I can ever dream of.”

Tony Stark. Peter paused then, just a second before he lifted his hand to point at the man. “My Father.”

The arm over his shoulder tightened, a brief hug of support. “They’re lucky to know you, Peter. Not the other way around.”

Peter tried not to listen in to the conversations, instead he focused on his Aunt and her steady breathing as she kept her arm looped around him. It only took a few minutes for the two groups to come to agreements on where to go forward.

Natasha announced, “We should go ahead and take the Quinjet back, get Murdock and Jones settled in at the compound. They’ll be there for a few days while we work out the situation with the New York vigilantes and do a brief overview for SHIELD.”

Steve added, “Wanda and Vision will be returning, so we’re going to prep their rooms. Team training will start taking place next month.” There was a flicker of annoyance on Tony’s face, but the man didn’t protest. Steve’s gaze shifted to settle on Peter. “Spiderman will join us.” Peter could see Tony’s jawline twitch. Again, the man remained silent. Apparently his vote hadn’t been in favor of the decision, but everyone else’s had.

It was May who challenged it all, “Peter will train when he isn’t grounded. Peter will join team training when his guardians-“ she leveled a quick look at Tony, “-say he’s ready for team training.” Peter stared down at the floor, knowing he looked properly chastised, but unable to summon up any defiance. That left everyone accounted for, except for Tony.

“I’m staying with the Parkers tonight.”

May, for just a moment, appeared like she wanted to argue. But one look at Tony’s face, and the plea hidden there, kept her from voicing it. Peter, however, couldn’t help but ask, “Really?”

“Yeah, Kid, really.” There was a touch of amusement showing now, like he was surprised that Peter even asked.

Tony took a moment then to clear up the lab, removing all evidence of what they had been up to. The rest of the teams filed out ahead of them. While the others went to the roof, Peter, Tony, and May went to the ground floor.

A familiar face greeted them at the base of the elevator.

“Happy!” Peter exclaimed as the man stared back at him. Happy gave him a long look, face scrunched up in concentration. It lasted long enough to make Peter flush and turn towards May for support.

Then Happy relaxed and announced, “Yeah. I guess I see it.”

“Funny.” Tony snarked before guiding Peter and May out of the elevator. Happy shrugged and addressed the teen’s Aunt.

“You doing alright with all this?”

“There’s some shell-shock still happening.” Then the two of them made their way ahead of Tony and Peter, as if clearning the path up to the car.

A hand fell on Peter’s shoulder, a steady clasp that had him looking towards Tony.

“If it gets out early, no swinging around Queens for a while.” There was steel in the man’s tone, a warning that Peter felt obligated to heed. It. The news that he was the son of Tony Stark. Peter nodded. “Just for your own safety, Kid.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

For now, though, the press hadn’t really honed in on Tony Stark acting different than usual. He was in the city often enough to not raise any suspicions. And the quinjet had been mostly undetected, so the Avengers flew in under the radar.

It really was just a matter of time though…

Peter was left thinking about it all the way back to the apartment.

Happy had driven them in a nondescript car, one of the basic model BMW’s that Tony kept at the tower. They didn’t dawdle outside either, taking a short path back into the apartment.

May handed Tony a pair of pajamas. Peter recognized them as Ben’s. The man must not have even thought about what he was going to sleep in, otherwise he would have had Happy bring something. Even more surprising was the fact that his mentor put them on with no complaint. It drilled home that Mr. Stark was rattled about the whole thing.

The two adults huddled in the kitchen while Peter got ready for bed.

———————————————

Tony watched the kid walk out of his bedroom, freshly showered and wearing a pair of star wars pajamas that were just slightly too small. His kid. His kid who’d struggled and thrived in ways he could never truly comprehend.

Peter glanced his way, head down as he approached the couch. It was clear on his face that he was uncertain as to their relationship, so Tony felt it was his duty to take that first step, “Hey, Kid. You brush your teeth?”

Wasn’t that what father’s were supposed to ask?

Peter let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, Tony.” Good. At least he hadn’t called him Mr. Stark again.

Christ.

“Great.” Tony glanced away, plucked at the flannel shirt that May had given him. He would have turned it down, but the last thing he needed right now was to have his kid’s Aunt feel rebuffed. Hence the sofa that was currently made up with a blanket and a pillow, instead of them all getting an extra large suite at the Ritz.

Yeah, he had a feeling that May Parker wouldn’t appreciate him stepping in and throwing money at the situation. She certainly had told him off about the clothes agreement just a couple of days ago.

“So, how long are you staying?” The kid was nervous. Tony picked it up in his tone and on his face when he finally looked up at him.

“Long enough for us to work out… something.” As if on cue, May appeared from her bedroom, the other party who was required for that negotiating.

She closed the distance to Peter, patted him on the shoulder and gave him a quick, yet tight, hug. So easy was her affection that Tony felt a flush of envy. “You should get some sleep, Kiddo,” May insisted.

Peter gave her a quick nod and waved to Tony, “Night. Uh, I’ll see you in the morning.” Based on Tony’s watch that was only in six more hours or so. Then the kid was gone and May was taking a seat on the couch beside Tony.

“So. Do we talk custody?” Her blunt question was almost startling.

Tony stared up at her, “What?”

May gave him a gentle smile and set her hand on top of his. “We both love him. We both want him. So… we’re gonna have to come to some kind of agreement.”

“Every other week?” Half the time. Yeah, that was a good suggestion Tones.

“It won’t be feasible when he’s in school.”

Tony countered, “Weekends?”

“I’d argue that it’s usually mine and Peter’s time, but I guess I need to make room, huh?” Tony felt himself appreciating how agreeable she was. In other circumstances he could only imagine how this would go.

“Summer too? I can take him to Italy.” That hand over his gave a light squeeze. 

“You can’t spoil him, Tony. Ben… Ben and I worked hard to make sure he turned into a person to be proud of.”

The thought that he could corrupt that kid was laughable. Tony chucked before he could stop himself. “I could buy him everything in the world and he would still think he didn’t deserve it.”

May shared his laugh, “Yeah. I guess he is pure hearted. Still… I want him to remain _grounded._ ”

Grounded. Of all the things he could have given to his kid she wanted to make sure that Peter kept his center. Stability. Reality. Those things didn’t fit into his world. When was the last time he thought about money? Probably when he bought that car a few years ago that Pepper thought was hideous. When was the last time his life was _stable?_ Before Afghanistan? Hell, it was one giant haze before then too…

“I don’t know if that’s even possible.” Because Peter would ask for something and Tony would get it, wouldn’t even think twice. He would fly him around the world. They would invent new elements. Discovery awaited them. Danger. “We’re so far above the ground that it’s terrifying.”

“We’ll figure it out. Together.”

For a few minutes they sat in silence. Tony contemplated the future, mentally planned out the birthday next month. Mentally planned out Peter attending MIT. Pictured a wedding and little younger Parker-Starks. Three minutes was a long time with his thoughts.

She eventually made him a cup of tea, recommended that he get some sleep. Tony wondered if that was even going to happen. But somehow he found himself settled against the couch, mind going blank as exhaustion claimed him.

The smell of ash woke him, along with the light rustling of footsteps. Darkness made it hard for him to navigate off the couch and towards the sound. It was a little disorienting, trying to center himself in a new place so quickly. He felt his heart rate skyrocket at the sound of a window creaking.

He stepped into Peter’s room before fully processing that there could be danger.

The boy was standing by the window, hands at the top as if he’d just finished closing it. The soot smell that had woken Tony was radiating from the Kid. But it was still too dark to see what the hell was going on, despite the ambient lighting from outside.

“What the hell you doing, Kid?” Tony somehow managed to whisper, reminding himself that May was probably still asleep.

“There was a fire.” Yeah. That explained everything. Tony tilted his head, listening for the sound of fire trucks. Peter must have figured out what he was listening for, because he sheepishly muttered, “In Brooklyn…”

“Brooklyn?!” He exclaimed in a loud whisper. Tony stalked over to the wall, flicking on the light with a quick jerk of his wrist.

Peter flinched at the sudden brightness. Tony ignored it to look him over.

He was caked in soot, even had some in his hair. Which meant he’d removed his mask at some point while still in the thick of it. There were tear streaks down the kid’s cheeks. Across his neck was a reddish-brown smear of something. Tony advanced on him, heart beating fast once more as he saw that it was blood. No small amount. He gently grabbed Peter’s chin, turning his head so he could see the wound. A quick inspection revealed that there wasn’t one. Had he healed already?

“It isn’t mine.” There was a hoarse quality in his voice, probably straining from inhaling smoke. Minor injury for Peter. Probably deadly for anyone else. Tony’s breath left him in a shaky rasp as he let go of the Kid.

“You took off the mask,” Tony reprimanded, frustrated that the Kid ignored a solid safety feature. The air filtration system was top notch. He’d made sure of it.

“I… I gave it to one of the firemen. His tank failed. It’s fine. I’ll get it back.” Peter mentioned it like he’d done it plenty of times before. 

Just giving away a multimillion dollar mask. Sure. That was fine. That was just like his Kid. “He make it?”

Peter smiled, just little one. Just enough to tell Tony that the man had been alright.

Was this how May felt? He was starting to understand why she’d yelled at him after Peter had been impaled by the rebar. How many times had she woken in the middle of the night? Found Peter covered in dirt or soot or blood? How many times has her heart almost beat out of her chest from fear? Had she blamed Tony? Like he blamed himself?

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of another door opening.

May.

Peter jerked Tony into the room, managing to somehow flip off the lights and silently close his door simultaneously. The whole action was reflexive and said that he’d performed this same thing a hundred times.Tony blinked in the darkness, barely able to make out the whites of Peter’s gaze as the kid looked at him with wide eyes. There was a plea hidden there.

_Don’t tell May._

Was this a test? Was God testing him right now?!

“Peter?”

May’s voice was soft on the other side of the door, filled with that sleep quality that told Tony she was barely awake.

“He’s fine. Just… had a nightmare.” Day one and he was already lying to the other parent. More like Peter _was_ a nightmare. Tony snorted at the mental joke then glared at the Kid. “Go back to sleep, May. I’ve got him.”

“You owe me.” Tony mouthed, knowing damn well that Peter would hear it. The teen gave a rapid nod of agreement and the two of them waited until they heard May’s door close again.

Tony flicked the light back on, only feeling a little bad when Peter winced again, and pointed a finger in Peter’s face. “ _You_. You are supposed to be grounded. And not grounded like May keeps talking about. Like grounded where you can’t go out without explicit permission.”

“I know,” Peter practically whined. “But I couldn’t sleep. And I heard the siren. It was bad. There was three buildings on fire. And part of it was residential. So I-” If he didn’t stop the Kid now, the rambling would continue for at least ten minutes. 

Tony snapped, “There are always gonna be buildings on fire. It’s New York! And last I checked, they had a pretty state of the art Fire Department.”

“But Mr. Stark-“

“Damn it, Peter. _Tony!_ My name is Tony.”

“ _Tony_. I know I’m only 16. But I’m also capable of lifting 20 tons and I heal from bullet wounds. I can handle it.”

“Stop reminding me that you get shot!” Tony hissed. “I just became a parent less than 24 hours ago. You’re going to give me a heart attack by the end of the week.” He mimed pulling out his hair.

The door swung open suddenly, revealing a not-so-sleepy arms-crossed Aunt May. Tony reflexively sidestepped in front of Peter. She looked less than amused by his efforts to protect Peter.

“Seriously? You two are not even whispering anymore.” She leaned over, glaring at her nephew, “You, take a shower. You smell _terrible_. And you,” She redirected to Tony, “Don’t cover for him. He’ll spill within a week or two and it’ll just make it worse for you later.”

Well. Tony felt properly chastised…

Peter, head down, made his way to the hall shower, leaving the two adults behind.

“You two really are father and son,” May muttered, foot tapping as she gave an exasperated sigh. “Lord, give me strength.”

Yeah, she wasn’t kidding…


End file.
